


My Dearest Enemy

by lokidiabolus



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, inital antagonism, mean Newt, puppy Thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 45,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3321485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidiabolus/pseuds/lokidiabolus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Newt, Thomas had been an asshat without two brain cells to rub together. For the first moment he laid his eyes on the brunet it was just wrong - all his smiles, his Bambi eyes, his puppy behaviour.<br/>For Thomas, Newt had been an unproachable fortress that kept on firing at him anytime he tried to get close. For the first moment he laid his eyes on the blond it was like a challenge - he just couldn't find the right approach.<br/>For the sake of both of them a nice, long distance would be the best thing to maintain. That's why they kept on doing the exact opposite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Skill Level

**Author's Note:**

> Taken from the prompt challenge from Tumblr and due to the popular demand I decided to give it a go :)  
> I'll include the small ficlet I wrote in it, changing it a bit to make it work, therefore I apologize for the repetitive stuff for those who are familiar with the My Dearest Enemy mini-saga from the prompts :)

If the classroom had been a little noisier, Newt thought it would probably made him shout in frustration. The whole blackboard was filled with numbers and small mischievous letters, and all Newt could do was to stare and stare and stare, trying to find something, _anything_ that would make at least a little sense.

All he saw was a mash up of an utter nonsense. Unmerciful rubbish that Newt could only call as “mindfuck”, mocking him from afar, from under teacher’s chalk that had been writing and circling and underlining all those small numbers and letters in a chaotic maelstrom.

His notebook seemed similar. Nothing made sense there; it had no form or order. It didn’t matter where he stared to, the blackboard was laughing at him and his notes cried in despair.

“This bloody formula is ridiculous,” he grumbled towards Minho, clicking his pen impatiently. “I’ll be solving it in my grave still.”

Minho chuckled, his notes actually looking neater and more confident and Newt wondered if it was worth it to copy the result for now and try to understand later on his own. Minho was surprisingly always better at math – being the notorious jock and all. Not that Newt considered him stupid, no way. The Korean boy was actually pretty smart for how he usually presented himself (a macho guy, all big talk and boosted ego, but they loved him for it – hell, even Newt loved him for it, it just felt right), and could balance his sport activities _and_ study at the same time. It was definitely worth his respect, because even though Newt’s grades were pretty good, math gave him a hard time with those things. He knew he could always ask Minho for help, he was laidback with explaining equations and all math-related problems, but lately it had been a little more difficult. Especially thanks to another chuckle, this time coming from a seat next to Minho, where a brown haired youngster sat with an amused smirk on his face, because such reaction – and the person in general – made Newt see red quite often.

He felt his blood boiling at the sight already – this guy was a nightmare. He would consider himself lucky if a stupid remark hadn’t had landed on his account in next five seconds, because that was Thomas’ forte, like a distinguishing mark, always ready to shoot some fucked up notion. He must have this patented somewhere, because he represented even biggest asshatsy than Gally, and that was enough said. The only difference was that Gally had been actually smart about it, and using it only when the right moment and enough idiocy represented itself. Thomas, on the other hand, acted like a 5 years old with a plastic gun and a deathwish.

“That’s beyond your skill level,” Thomas snorted, unsurprisingly, and all hopes for one peaceful day disappeared somewhere in a deep shithole. Day by day Newt wished Thomas would swallow his tongue and stop talking altogether, or maybe tripped and bite that annoying piece of muscle off, just because he used it in such irritating fashion. Newt gave him an annoyed look, but kept his mouth shut, even though he gripped his pen stronger and heard it crack a little.

Beyond his skill level. What did he think it was? A game? _A skill level._ It was just a stupid math problem, not a bloody RPG or whatever this moron thought. If he even _thought_. Most of the time his brain process reminded him of a ping pong of two sloths, waiting for a hit for years.

Sometimes Newt really couldn’t understand Minho’s friends. He acknowledged the tolerance of Teresa or Brenda, they were at least cute. But Thomas? He was like a hyperactive hamster without a proper brain. If Minho was a girl, Newt would say he got swayed by this guy’s big brown eyes and pretty smile he loved to flash around like a weapon of mass destruction. But Minho definitely hadn’t fancied those types, and yet here Thomas was, sitting with them every day, making smart (aka absolutely idiotic) remarks, and today he just killed it.

Newt gave up. He was _not_ going to comment it anymore, just to get insulted in another different “nerdy” way about a bloody skill level. He already had several _battles_ with him, insulting on each fronts, and it never gave him the proper satisfaction worth the effort. He doubted today was going to be different, if he really engaged him _again_ , because they would only clash without keeping a score and left with a draw once more. And Newt usually considered himself very sharp with words – his dry humour could shut up any jerk in a closer vicinity.

Well, at least until Thomas, that is. This guy just bounced back, smiled wider, and shot another salve, as if his poor little brain couldn’t catch the proper meaning.

“No comeback?” Thomas sounded surprised and Newt bit his tongue, staring into his paper stubbornly. He was not. Going to. Comment. Or talk. To this. Huge. Colossal. Idiot. “Aren’t you sick? You feel alright?”

_Not. Going to. Say. A bloody thing!_

“Minho, I think he’s broken.”

“Nah,” Minho reacted with a shrug. “He’s just absolutely done with you.”

_Touché._

“Aww,” Thomas cooed, and it was the worst sound out of everything Newt ever heard. It made him want to punch him. With a chair. Repeatedly. “Hey Newt. Hey. Don’t be mad.”

He even had the nerve to reach above Minho and actually ruffle Newt’s hair, and that was the last straw that made Newt snap.

“Will ya shut your bloody trap already!” he barked at him with a deadly glare, ready to use his pen if needed, even if he was going to be framed for stupid murder. The world would be a better place anyway, it would count as contribution to society, getting rid of this much stupid Thomas represented. They would make him a hero after, no doubt.

“Oh good, he’s talking again,” the brunet grinned, that bloody loon, and sat back on his place, looking annoyingly pleased with himself. “Was afraid you swallowed your tongue or somethin’.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Newt bit out and stood up, taking his bag and a notebook. “My IQ drops drastically just listening to your bloody voice.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” Thomas smiled happily, and Newt had to hold himself by his sheer will not to pounce him and punch the living shit out of him.

“Keep him away from me,” he hissed at Minho, his eyes screaming murder, and Minho just snorted.

“Whatever you say, lovebird.”

Newt didn’t have the strength to comment on it, so he just left the desk and found another free spot, far from those two dorks.

“Noo, come back, Newtie!” he heard Thomas whine, and then a mass of giggling followed, and that was the moment Newt decided he bloody hated this guy. He didn’t click with him well from the first moment he set his eyes on him, and each passing day this antipathy grew stronger and more jaded, until he felt like exploding if he had to spend another minute only with him.

Thank god for small miracles when Minho actually caught up on Newt’s murderous mood and decided to entertain Thomas with something different, to give the blond some space and breathing room.

And more importantly – blessed silence.

***

Jumping from raging mood into silent awe was pretty normal when Newt actually spent time around Gally. He must have admitted that this big, a little intimidating guy was able to reconnect his thoughts from murder to wonder in seconds, just by a moment of listening to him.

Gally was a good guy. He was popular, and he was also hated – with him, it usually meant you either loved him, or despised him to death. He had his way of dealing with problems, as much as he had his way of creating new ones, more complicated and usually a little unsolvable, just for his own amusement. Freshmen had always respected him from the first hello or a glare, and seniors either tried to get out of his way if they weren’t fans, or actually stuck close to engage interesting conversations.

Newt liked Gally. They clicked perfectly, especially when they teamed up on someone they both disliked. The poor person had a very rough life after, Newt admitted, but he usually had it coming. Newt wasn’t a hateful guy, surprisingly as it may seem after his burning animosity towards Thomas, and those _team-ups_ were minimal, but they happened. And they were fun.

“I don’t even think you need my help in this, Blondie,” Gally remarked while fiddling with his fork, not really eating or planning to, judging from his utter disinterest in what he had on the plate. “Just a little more and you’ll kill him yourself.”

“I’m trying not to,” Newt offered as if it was enough of consolation. “But he makes it so damn difficult.”

“Oh that I can understand,” Gally nodded, his own displeasure in the big eyed Bambi very well known. They even clashed physically just few days after Thomas got to this school, and even though Thomas hadn’t been a weakling, Gally’s physical superiority made itself known, and he basically sent the brunet flying (Newt hadn’t really remembered the reason why, at least not as clearly. Thomas wasn’t really an antagonistic person at first, he hadn’t been trying to piss off someone who was bigger than him, but there had been an argument, and it got heated pretty fast, and the next thing Newt saw was this greenie flying from where he stood down the floor and sliding few more metres before the momentum disappeared, leaving him completely dumbfounded and gaping). Since then Thomas and Gally circled each other like two predators defending their own territory. They hadn’t tried to breach the other’s boundaries, but if there had been a chance, it had been a salve of displeasuring nicknames and curses, until one of them just waved it off, leaving it for another day. If they didn’t need to talk to each other, they happily seized that opportunity and just put on ignore mode.

“Minho likes him though,” Newt added, sipping his drink thoughtfully. He never understood why or how Thomas managed it, but he was actually quite popular in a short time. Like the all-people guy, getting along with everyone. Well, except Newt and Gally it seemed. What a duo they made. It was true that Thomas seemed to be different at first, even towards Newt. Smiley, friendly, not ironic like now. But that changed gradually and it only fuelled Newt displeasure in dealing with him.

 “Minho likes everyone,” Gally snorted. “If they show enough testosterone, or boobs.”

“Brenda never really showed boobs though,” Newt pointed out, making Gally grin wickedly.

“Might be cuz Brenda doesn’t really have any.”

“Burn,” Newt snickered, even though it was a really mean thing to say. Brenda was an alright girl, usually easy-going and maybe also a little boyish with her short-cut hair and punk fashion sense.

“Going straight back home after school?” Gally asked, pushing his tray away and Newt nodded with a hum. He planned on studying in the library at first, but it seemed unappealing each passing second, so he left it out of his mind.

“Gonna tag along?” he asked and Gally tapped his fingers against the table.

“Yep,” he drummed along the edge. “Have a meet up with Ben in the city, so I’ll just bother you until then.”

“Makes me feel so special,” Newt smirked and followed Gally to the stand and out of the cafeteria.

***

Newt was never good with cold weather. He hot chilled easily and warmed up slowly, and the fact it had been snowing the whole day today and the temperature hadn’t really treated them nicely the so far, made him more miserable than he thought at first.

He was ahead of Gally’s schedule, so he had to wait, and just watching the whiteness everywhere, and more whiteness dropping from the equally coloured sky made him chilly already, even though he still stayed inside the building. He waved most of his friends off already, even Minho jogged away with a big smile on his face (probably a date), and the hallway got quiet again, making Newt only silently watch the falling snowflakes melt on the window.

“What keeps you here?”

Newt froze, immediately recognizing the tone, and the one who it belonged to, and cringed, chiding himself for not waiting somewhere more seclude.

“Definitely not your charming personality,” he responded without glancing back, and he didn’t even needed to, because Thomas was suddenly standing next to him, already dressed up to leave, and Newt wanted to shout at him to move already, to just get out.

“Of course,” the brunet said with a sigh, and Newt grew more wary. He was _not_ falling for such act, he had his standards. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for today.”

“Yeah, I think you should have stayed at home too,” the blond bit back, stealing a short look at his face, and it was worth it – he made him speechless.

 _One for me_.

“Well… at least I wouldn’t need to deal with the snow?” the brunet pointed towards the window, and his attitude bothered him – it was weird and unnatural for him to try to engage in a _normal_ conversation for once. Newt sensed a terrible conclusion coming, and he really, really wasn’t in the mood for it. Gally still had several more minutes of class, so Newt stepped up his game, adopting a meaner approach, because that was what always worked – on anyone.

“You know, the snow always reminds me of you," he said, smiling sweetly, and immediately saw the wariness in Thomas’ brown eyes, which was good.

"Because it’s pretty?" the brunet tried, all cocky, and Newt just offered even a sweeter smile than before, a cutting edge that meant to slice his head off if needed. He led the score for now, and he definitely meant to keep it for today.

“Because it’s cold and always in my damn way.”

_Scored._


	2. Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thank you for clearing it up for me,” he uttered, and at that point the dog bounced back and rolled over Thomas like a happy carpet. “Ow, Maze, you wicked beast!”  
> “Is this about Gally?” Teresa ignored the fact Maze was slobbering all over Thomas’ back now, and crouched next to the boy demandingly. “Is he giving you a hard time again?”  
> “No mom, geez, stop prying!” he reached for her knee and pushed, sending her to her butt with a yelp.
> 
> THIS STORY IS ON HIATUS FROM NOW ON. I'm so sorry.

Thomas knew the smile signalized something bad coming and he wasn’t wrong. Of course Newt just found a way how to insult him further, and somehow even more than usual, aiming it at him with precision worth an archer.

“Ouch,” he voiced out, barking out a little laugh, although it sounded strained even to his own ears. “That was little uncalled for.”

“On the contrary,” Newt turned away from him again, returning to watching the falling snow out of the window as if Thomas was just an annoying fly buzzing around his head. “You had it coming for some time already.”

“Fine, I give up,” Thomas sighed, raising his hands in defeat, a placating gesture that should have signed he didn’t want to fight anymore – and really, he did not. “What’s the deal? What exactly is that irks you so much about me?”

Newt glanced back at him, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. He seemed thoughtful for a while, his dark, brown eyes staring and analysing, until he apparently managed to draw the corresponding conclusion and Thomas couldn’t say he wasn’t afraid of it. They rarely talked face to face like this, without others present – the last time this happened made Thomas feel like he just met the most insufferable person in the world.

“Nothing about you. Just _you_. As a whole,” the blond responded coldly, adding a sneer to the mix, and Thomas wondered how exactly this guy could be the same sunshine he was seeing smiling at Minho, or Gally, or basically anyone else, except Thomas. It was as if someone turned the page every time Thomas got to the close vicinity, or flicked a switch inside of him – he turned darker and antagonistic, and lately literally hostile.

Yes, Thomas knew he had been teasing him the whole time. But it was an automatic reaction – when someone was grumpy for no reason, he tended to drag him out of his shell with remarks that irked them, making them snap and reveal themselves. It usually worked like a charm, one initial argument and the barriers fell. Thomas was a friendly guy; he had his way to get along with everyone – a day or two in their presence and he was able to maintain the best attitude while near them to make them getting along with him, like an all people person.

With Newt… he just couldn’t find the right angle. He tried to be nice at first. It failed. He tried to nag him – it backfired. Sweet – denied. Mean – frowned upon. There was no way he could approach him without the unhappy look or a literal animosity, as if just his breathing annoyed this boy immensely.

“I see,” Thomas mumbled, hating the defeated feeling that bloomed inside of him. He knew he had been naggy in the classroom today, but so far it was the only way how to make Newt at least talk to him, even though in an annoyed fashion.

“I’m happy you do,” Newt shot back, his eyes not lingering longer than necessary, as if everything was more interesting than Thomas’ presence. “Now go play somewhere else. Stop bothering me.”

Thomas found himself out of the building before his mind caught with his body.

It felt a little hollow.

***

“I don’t mean to pry, but what the heck is going on with you lately?”

Thomas flicked away the treat and their oversized dog immediately came running for it, scrambling around corners and searching for his reward. It was like a big hairy pulp bouncing around and Thomas thought his life was the best. He got fed, he went out when he needed to pee or poo, or for a walk, he didn’t mind when he got absolutely dirty (with him being a Slovak Cuvac he was white in default, but… keeping him white was an ordeal), and all he cared about were games, food and his own needs. He didn’t care about some random blond ignoring him, or hating him, he was ecstatic then someone threw him a ball or he could lick his own ass.

Thomas wasn’t keen on doing any of those things, mind you. But his brain envied the simplicity and only a minimal need to feel bothered by someone hating you. Thomas couldn’t do that. He wasn’t used to people disliking him; he never had been overly opinionated for anyone to get angry with him. But since he transferred here, it somehow became more and more difficult to get along with everyone. It started with Gally, but with that guy they were mostly just ignoring each other, for the sake of their surroundings. The boy was big and highly biased, and what wasn’t as he wanted it, that played it wrong in his book. Thomas always wanted to find a compromise and that often meant keeping his own opinions to himself.

And with Newt it just started without cause, at least Thomas couldn’t find any. From the first moment they said hello to each other, the blond had this defensive stance on, like Thomas was offending him somehow. At first Thomas thought it was just how he presented himself to everyone – a little like a fortress that needs to be sieged before opening up. But it hadn’t changed the longer Thomas knew him, and on the top of it _everyone_ was fine for Newt but Thomas. Even Teresa and Brenda that transferred with him he always talked to normally, _smiled_ even, and they didn’t even do anything special.

Of course he asked Minho about it, but the Asian boy just shrugged and said: _whatever man, just let him be, he’ll come around eventually._ So it might have been normal, Thomas thought. Just longer getting used to somebody, it happened. So Thomas tried to show him he was not a bad guy – but it backfired and they ended where they were now.

Thomas couldn’t even really say why it bothered him so much. He was getting along with everyone else (well, not Gally per se, but yeah), so why one person should be a problem to ignore?

But he just couldn’t. And it pissed him off. So he kept on trying and trying and trying until today.

“Nothing is going on with me lately,” he finally responded to Teresa’s question, looking up to the black haired girl from the floor he had been laying on, surrounded by their dog’s plushies. She raised an eyebrow at him and it meant the only thing – she _was_ going to pry. A lot.

“Tom,” she started and he knew that tone. The “ _I am here to help you, and I will help you, like it or not. I can even get physical if you’ll ignore me”_ one he hated with passion. “I know you forever. You were never _this_ down for _ages_. Probably since your hamster died when you were 7.”

“Thank you for clearing it up for me,” he uttered, and at that point the dog bounced back and rolled over Thomas like a happy carpet. “Ow, Maze, you wicked beast!”

“Is this about Gally?” Teresa ignored the fact Maze was slobbering all over Thomas’ back now, and crouched next to the boy demandingly. “Is he giving you a hard time again?”

“No _mom_ , geez, stop prying!” he reached for her knee and pushed, sending her to her butt with a yelp.

“Teachers?” she still asked and Thomas groaned, trying to roll over on his back, but the 30 kg heavy dog was making it sort of difficult.

“It’s nothing, I’m not _down_ ,” he assured her a little breathlessly how he tried to get Maze off him and the dog refused to move an inch, which left him panting. “Just not in the mood today.”

“You haven’t been in the mood for _months_ ,” she pointed out in a serious tone. “Basically from the time we transferred here. There must be something bugging you, so don’t try to act all tough and spill the beans.”

“ _You a_ re bugging me at the moment,” he grumbled and Teresa rolled her eyes and stood up.

“Ungrateful prick,” she told him sternly and left him trapped under Maze without second look. He still called it a win.

***

When Teresa took something in her head and set on it, it was very difficult to make her stop. She had that overprotective streak in her and considered Thomas and Brenda her _babies_. Not brother or sister, but kids that needed to be protected, and when there was something bothering them, she turned into a hell hound and sniffled it all out.

It was always the same and Thomas regretted his poor coping skills when she started to watch him and the people he had been interacting with like an eagle perching above them. He immediately knew that talking to the blond boy next to Minho was a bad idea when she was analysing every reaction, so he just quietly sat down next to the Korean, greeted him shortly and remained silent and obedient, feeling almost physically her eyes stabbing the back of his head.

“You have troubles with Wildfire?” Minho piped during the first lesson, apparently noting Thomas refusal to interact (and he was aware it must have been weird for him, he rarely shut up – basically only when Newt had been especially nasty about his talking). “She kept on staring and throwing imaginary daggers at you.”

“She’s just trying to control my life again,” he mumbled, not even glancing at her, because he was pretty sure she was waiting for a visual like for a blessing, so she could scoot closer without being suspicious.

He heard Newt snort at that and waited if a remark will land, but the blond didn’t say anything, only kept on smirking into his notebook (and Thomas very much doubted economy was a laughable material). He wanted to react somehow, but Teresa’s watchful eye prevented him from interacting further, so he grudgingly got back to his own notes.

He was able to keep his lack of attachment for three more lessons, keeping all points to himself, until Minho got fed up and started poking at him to finally talk.

“If I wanted to have two zombies next to me, I’d go watch Resident Evil, geez. Stop pouting,” he nudged him with his elbow. “How about we go climbing after school?”

“Climbing?”

“Yeah, like this crazy trust exercise!” Minho lit up like a Christmas tree that Thomas was a bit afraid he was going to explode soon. “It’s fun, you’ll love it, c’mon!”

“I guess?” he shrugged, not really seeing a reason why to decline. It would keep him away from the flat with Teresa a bit longer, and that was always good.

“Newt?” Minho immediately turned to the blond, and the boy raised an eyebrow as if he was asking if Minho lost his mind.

“Trusting exercise? Really? I wouldn’t even trust you with my pencil, not to mention with my bone structure that could get smashed once you let go of the rope,” he uttered sternly, closing up the topic like a guillotine and Thomas gritted his teeth, even though it had been aimed at Minho and not him for a change.

“You’re just a scaredy-cat,” Minho smirked, not taking it personally at all, and Newt apparently decided to ignore him, because he hadn’t replied anymore. Thomas was proud on himself he managed to keep his mouth shut until the lesson ended, and then followed the blond out of the classroom. He really didn’t know why, he probably had a death wish, but it kept on boiling inside of him, and now it felt like it wasn’t aimed only at _him_ , but even at Minho, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“A word, please?” he stopped the blond further in a hallway by reaching out for him, seizing his arm in his hand, and Newt flinched and immediately pulled back, staring at Thomas in disbelief.

“Oh my god, _what now_?” he growled at the brunet unhappily, rubbing the place where Thomas touched him, and it was so hostile Thomas took a step back involuntarily. “Why do you keep on pestering me? Do you even _understand_ what _leave me alone_ means?! Should I buy you a dictionary? Or maybe a private teacher so your thick skull allow your tiny brain to gain some IQ?!“

Thomas blinked in shock for a moment, the words slowly seeping into his mind like poison, and his silence apparently piqued Newt even more, because he pushed into Thomas frame strongly, his eyes furious.

“There,” he gritted through his teeth. “This is the bloody distance you should keep from me! Shove your _word please_ to your sorry butt!”

When Thomas was thinking back about this, he probably should have backed up. But at that point he could almost _hear_ like something snapped inside of him, and his body moved on its own, pushing the blond back strongly until he hit the wall.

He didn’t need to be told he was making a cardinal mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Okay, so. I was thinking about this one comment I got in here, and I think I really need to stop myself before I bastardize this idea further. My mind is not 100% in this, and since I'm keen on writing something else atm, I suppose putting this on hold for some time would be the best idea for the moment.
> 
> I'm terribly sorry! I shouldn't have even started it when I felt like I don't want to T^T


	3. A Demand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re nice to everyone else,” Thomas said next, his voice dropping low, almost growly, like he was accusing him from a deadly sin. “You’re smiling at everyone else. So what have I done that I’m an exception?”  
> “What?” Newt blinked, staring at the focused face in front of him, all unhappy and conflicted. What, what, what? He couldn’t be serious, could he? “This is why you act like ten years old? Because I don’t smile at you?”

“Are you bloody mad?!”

Newt felt his heart going into an overdrive, his back hurt and his head too, and now there was this absolute idiot holding him against the wall. He seriously must have a problem with his head, normal people wouldn’t even consider cross Newt when he stated loud and clear he didn’t wish for it – if not out of respect, then by a common sense.

But no, Thomas just needed to show him his alpha status or something, and here they were, breathing each other’s air, and really, what the hell was his problem? He stared at Newt like he was fighting with himself how to start or what to say, and his face was getting angrier and angrier by a second.

“Are you going to stare at me like a tit or does this have a reason? Because you’re freaking me out,” Newt decided to pique him a little – he seriously wanted to get away from his proximity as fast as he could, but Thomas basically closed off every escape route with his stupid body.

He watched him to take a deep breath and look away for a moment, seemingly calming down somehow, and expected the worst.

“Honestly,” Thomas started and Newt raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t even looking at him. “I thought you have a problem with me, but what’s up with Minho?”

“What?” the blond frowned in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You were never this nasty towards him like that before,” the brunet elaborated – or he thought he did – and Newt was losing his patience in a speed of light. “The climbing-,”

“Oh my god,” Newt interrupted him with a groan, making him look back again, sadly. “Are you a fucking moron? I’m not going because you’ll be there, you colossal idiot. Minho knows, so just bugger off, will ya?”

It stopped Thomas completely for a moment and Newt thought he had a brain freeze for how perfectly he stilled.  Then his eyes burned again and for a moment Newt expect a punch to land. Which hey, fine, _just start it you fucker and give me a reason to beat you up!_

“Give me _one_ fucking reason why you treat me like garbage,” Thomas hissed at him instead, hands balled into fists and he seemed to be closer all of sudden, looming over him threateningly. Newt couldn’t deny it shaken him a little, a sudden overpowering strength coming in waves from Thomas dulled his receptors for a second. “I have done _nothing_ to antagonize you, what the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a territory problem? Are you fucking jealous Minho is talking to other people as well? Or what’s your fucking game?!”

Newt blinked, rewinding what he just heard. Territory problem? Minho? Was he really this delusional? Not to mention he had been _antagonizing_ him since the day one, for fuck’s sake. How could he even say the opposite with a straight face?

“Don’t fancy yourself, greenie,” he answered after several tense seconds, mustering all his zen to deliver it calmly. “You and Minho can marry each other for what I care.”

There was a visible deflation in Thomas’ posture – his shoulders dropped, the fire in his eyes dimmed, and Newt could finally breathe a little when the brunet stepped away for a bit.

“This is not fair,” he told the blond almost sulkily. “It’s not fair you hold a grudge for something I hadn’t even done. Why?”

“There is no bloody reason, just drop it and let me be,” Newt nudged him to get away completely, but Thomas hadn’t budged an inch. If he would be really fast, he could, maybe, run away, but why give him the satisfaction? So he remained on the spot with displeased expression, trying to bore holes into Thomas’ skull.

Too bad it didn’t work.

“You’re nice to everyone else,” Thomas said next, his voice dropping low, almost growly, like he was accusing him from a deadly sin. “You’re _smiling_ at everyone else. So what have I done that I’m an exception?”

“What?” Newt blinked, staring at the focused face in front of him, all unhappy and conflicted. _What, what, what?_ He couldn’t be serious, could he?“This is why you act like ten years old? Because I don’t _smile_ at you?”

_What does that even mean?_

“You know what I mean,” Thomas replied gruffly, and Newt couldn’t help but shake his head in a vehement _no_. Seriously, this sounded like from a cheap romantic novel of an unrequited love – and that was the scariest conception he could ever think of.

“No, I don’t know what you bloody mean,” he nudged him again; this time stronger, and it made Thomas move a little, but still not enough for a safe retreat. Since he already showed him his grabby hands, Newt didn’t believe he would let him leave so easily. “People aren’t the same, you tit! Some just happens not to like other people; they just don’t tick right with them! You don’t tick right with me, and that’s the end of the story. Now let me go!”

“Then try!” Thomas demanded stubbornly and it made Newt stare at him in a wordless shock. _Try?!_ “I’m not fucking asking you about a love confession, just… a normal human conversation!”

“Oh?” Newt crossed his arms on his chest, challenging him to make even bigger fool of himself, if he dared. “I didn’t know I’ve been barking or meowing all this time. But then again you failed to understand simple requests, so maybe I have.”

“A hello, and good bye,” Thomas ignored his jab with a frown. “If I ask a question, just answer it shortly, but at least answer without trying to kill me. You don’t need to keep it nice, but make it at least civil.”

He seemed wanting to add something more, but then just stepped away from the blond, finally releasing him from the custody.

“Is that too much to ask?” he piped a second after and Newt could tell his own expression must have been a mess of utter confusion and pity – how could Thomas even think normally with such bird brain of his?

“You’re weird,” Newt breathed out, not really understanding the point of this request. It was pointless, and stupid. Why demanding somebody to keep it nice when he knew he would never mean it honestly? Wasn’t that fucked up? It would be much easier if they just avoided each other, as he did with Gally. Why was Gally different anyway? It was basically the same scenario, only with the addition of Gally being stronger and manifesting it at times.

Maybe that was it? Maybe Thomas just thought Newt wouldn’t be able to take him on.

“Just try,” Thomas repeated, and there was something strange and vulnerable in his tone, and Newt hated it. It made him agitated and itchy. It just didn’t seem right with this guy, like it made him even more pitiful.

“Fine,” he waved his hand to get him off his back. If he thought having Newt parroting hi and bye every day would make it better, let him have it. “Have it your way, _Tommy_.”

“See you tomorrow,” Thomas replied, his features a little lighter and it made Newt groan internally, and roll his eyes.

“For fuck’s sake…” he grumbled, passing around him full of agitation. “ _Bye_.”

The smile Thomas gave him was the sickest thing he had ever seen.

***

“Maybe he’s a praise junkie.”

Newt glanced away from the screen, giving his friend a weird look. Alby was still fully fixated on the TV, mashing buttons on his controller in an attempt to win, and Newt had to clear his throat for him to continue.

“Well, you know,” the dark skinned boy shrugged. “Like he can’t deal with being disliked, this kind of complex.”

“He doesn’t have a problem with Gally not being fond of him,” Newt opposed, returning to the screen as well. It wasn’t like he wanted to deal with this issue outside of the school, but he couldn’t get today’s scene Thomas showed him out of his head. He seriously expected to be beaten up when Thomas dragged him out of sight like that, but being ordered around by this prick for such stupid matter was something else. Even Alby laughed like crazy when he told him.

“Well, Gally is a walking brick wall,” Alby snorted. “You either hide behind him or you hit it. Nothing much in between.”

“Gally is fine,” Newt rolled his eyes and tossed the controller on the bed when the screen went black and Alby emerged victorious. “He just has his ways how to deal with pests.”

“Definitely,” Alby nodded with a smirk and put down his controller as well, turning to Newt fully. “Maybe you should get buff like him and this Tommy-guy would leave you alone?”

“Too late for that,” Newt sighed and dragged his knees under his chin. “I mean, he _knows_ I don’t like him, but he still wants to be friends or something. Like, what does he expect? That we will braid each other’s hair when I’m going to say hi and bye to him every day?”

“He might,” the other boy pondered and then his lips widened in a shit eating grin. “Or maybe he’s secretly in love with you and this is his way of coping.”

“You’re disgusting,” Newt pushed him away and groaned. “You don’t know what he’s like, you should come see him and then you’ll change your mind.”

“Nah, funnier this way,” Alby patted Newt’s back. “You always talk about him with so much passion I’m just waiting until you self-ignite.”

“Hopefully in his presence, so he’ll burn as well,” Newt grumbled and shook Alby’s hand away. “I’m considering changing seats at least. He’s bad all by himself, but teamed up with Minho it’s like you doubled his idiocy.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” Alby re-seated to a slightly more comfortable position and Newt thought of shoving him one more time for it. “He’s new, yeah? So he wants to be friends. That’s normal, no?”

“He has plenty of friends, I’m sure he won’t be missing one,” Newt uttered coldly. For real, Thomas was popular, one guy disliking him shouldn’t have been such a deal – he could talk to basically anyone and succeed.

“Oh man, poor guy,” Alby teased him with a smile. “Out of all the people he could be friends with… he chooses you. A walking fortress!”

“I’m not a fortress,” the blond denied that claim immediately. “He just didn’t click right with me, that’s all. It’s like everything about him is _wrong_.”

“Well, you can say whatever you like, but,” Alby pointed at him with a serious expression, “you _are_ difficult to befriend. You were grumpy to me for a long time too. Maybe I should talk to him and give him some tips?”

“Nothing could save _him_ ,” Newt shook his head. “Not even a bloody love potion.”

He wasn’t even sure why he became friends with Alby, but the boy was right – at first there was nothing much Newt liked about him either. But Alby left him alone, he wasn’t like a needy puppy demanding attention, and maybe that was the main point in all of this. If Thomas hadn’t been so damn persistent, it could all unfold differently. It took Newt few months to get used to Alby too, just watching him and categorizing his personality, until he felt like it was safe to approach and maybe talk a bit.

In the end they became best friends. But Thomas?

_Nah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Okay, trying to move this piece a bit, sorry for the super long hiatus and all and hopefully the pace will now even a bit, since the beginning was rushed, how I was completing it with prompts. Thank you all for waiting or reading this patiently and have an awesome day ^^


	4. Heart Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And how is dating included in trying to befriend him?” Thomas glared at him, trying to convey he should better shut up. Minho’s remarks were sharp like needles and he seriously didn’t need another bug into his head.  
> “Well, it’s a good start,” Minho offered. “But hey, we’re friends and you’re not making a heart eyes on me, so think about it.”

“Morning!”

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Minho immediately responded when Thomas crashed into his seat, apparently sensing his good mood, and gave him a wide smile. He heard a grumble from the other side of Minho’s seat and it took him a moment before he realized Newt actually greeted him – half mouthed and sounding like _fuck you_ , but he did, and he couldn’t stop the grin.

He had to admit he wasn’t sure how the blond was going to deal with the yesterday’s conversation – hell, at first he alone wasn’t sure how to deal with it when it shot out of him like a cannon ball – but it seemingly had the right impact. And even though Thomas felt like he should dig himself a deep grave and stay in it for the time being, the childish demand actually bore fruit and he couldn’t deny it made his day a lot better.

Not that it should have – Newt still seemed like he wanted to sit as far as he could and any other word spoken towards Thomas physically pained him, but hey, it was a start, right?

“Something escaped my attention?” Minho’s voice interrupted him and Thomas found out he had been smiling like an idiot while looking at his blond classmate all this time, so he quickly snapped out of it and hoped it didn’t seem as bad as he thought.

Judging from Minho’s expression it did.

“No, not really,” he lied anyway and the smile kept on fighting its way up to his lips, making it rather difficult to back up his statement. “I’m just in a good mood.”

“At least somebody is,” Newt uttered, making Thomas jolt at the unexpected conversation starter.

“Something happened?” he boldly asked, making Minho raise an eyebrow at him in a silent question. Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t very common for him to be this meek when it came to Newt, but if he wanted it to work, he _had to_ get a bit more humane in their conversations.

“Nope,” the blond responded – a victory – and stopped paying attention – not so victorious.

 _Fair enough_ , Thomas thought. It was, after all, part of the deal – to answer a question even with one word, but in a civil way. There was no glaring, no nasty remarks, and Thomas was satisfied.

Sort of.

It could be better.

“Seriously, have I missed something?” Minho asked again, this time looking like he seriously wanted to know, and Newt only snorted and started browsing his phone. No help from him, of course.

“You haven’t,” Thomas assured him, eying the blond warily. When Newt didn’t react, he felt it safe to switch his attention back to his dark haired classmate, just to meet a very suspicious stare.

“Maaaaan,” Minho pointed at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m watching you. Both.”

“Have fun,” Newt shot at him without looking up, smirking a little, and Thomas chuckled and let Minho grumble alone.

***

Newt was a mystery. No matter how hard Thomas tried to solve him, he couldn’t find the right combination. He knew the guy could smile, he knew he could laugh and he knew he could be a friendly, chatty companion. And even though all those things were still escaping Thomas’ grasp no matter how hard he tried to start a conversation with him, it sort of seemed better by each passing day during this month.

Yes, his _hi_ or _hello_ or _morning_ sounded still like a death threat each day he greeted him in the classroom, but his _byes_ were better, no antagonistic expression, no frown, just a dismissive wave of his hand or a nod, and his eyes lingered for a moment, almost curious, before he turned around and left.

Or Thomas just wanted really hard to be that way so he imagined it – which, yeah, could happen. There was no explanation available for him wanting Newt’s attention this much, no proper reason of chasing stolen words and glances, and yet he couldn’t help it.

Newt seemed to be a good friend to people. They spoke nicely of him – that he was fun, smart and chatty – _grouchy, cold and unhappy for Thomas –_ and Thomas wondered how exactly that felt, to have him being aware of his presence and actually enjoy it.

Not that Newt ignored him completely. His attitude changed a little, he sometimes replied with a full sentence and not just with a word, and Thomas knew he was pitiful to cling to this lame excuse of a normal human interaction, but it always tasted like a victory anyway.

“You know, your heart eyes are getting a little too obvious, man,” Minho nudged him suddenly and Thomas realized he had been staring at the blond sitting three rows in front of them all this time. “Just sayin’.”

“Sorry, got lost in a thought,” the brunet responded and averted his eyes from Newt’s little chat group back to his notes. He had been sitting there for two lessons already and Thomas refused to sulk about it. It wasn’t like they were chatty together or anything… sadly.

“Happens quite often lately, eh?” Minho grinned at him like he knew a secret of the universe. “Fell in love?”

“I wish,” Thomas snorted. “The last time I had some was with Brenda and that’s already several years back. I should probably do something about it.”

He was just glad Brenda didn’t hear him. Their relationship had been… fleeting, let’s say. Teresa called it _a fling_ , Brenda _a mistake_ and Thomas _I’ve had better_. Then they threw pillows at each other, laughed about it and decided they just didn’t fit together as more than friends. Brenda was a sweetie though, just a bit… different, Thomas thought. In her own world, maybe? And he just wasn’t part of it. Thankfully no hard feelings preserved and they functioned just fine.

“Yeah?” Minho kept on watching him like he was expecting something else and Thomas fidgeted nervously under his gaze. Lately it also felt like the dark haired boy was reading Thomas’ mind while he smiled enigmatically, and that was a really scary thought. He’d probably be shocked by the contents…

“Uh, yes?” he tried, suspicious. “Why? It’s not like there is not enough chicks around, I’m sure one will feel sorry for me eventually.”

Not like he was really looking, but Minho didn’t need to know that. There were several really cute girls and if Thomas got his shattered brain back together, he could actually do something about it. He sort of missed having a significant other – to cuddle and coo at, and be mushy without a cause and all this sickeningly sweet stuff.

_Huh, something what Newt would say, no doubt._

Minho chuckled and patted him on his shoulder, almost in consolation. Now when Thomas thought about it, had Minho had a girlfriend? He didn’t even know.

“Let’s get one thing straight - you’re not straight," Minho interrupted his wonderings with a wide grin and Thomas stilled as if he froze all over.

“Excuse me?” he blinked, turning his head towards the dark haired boy, wondering if he didn’t hit his head somewhere, because… what?

“Well, at least not only straight,” Minho commented like it wasn’t a big deal and flipped a page of his book absentmindedly, probably just to keep his hands busy. “I’m not saying you wouldn’t bang a girl too.”

“What are you talking about?” the brunet stared at him incredulously. Where did he even get that idea? And why would he? “I’m bi? Since when? Why no one told me?”

“I dunno, have Newt told you?” Minho shrugged, and his growing grin was making Thomas really, really nervous. There was a terrible punchline coming, he could sense it. He felt it in tips of his fingers, the weird tingling – maybe because he thought strangling his classmate before the verdict came would be better course of action than hearing it, since it apparently involved their blond classmate.

“I don’t know if you haven’t notice, but Newt is mostly telling me to fuck off,” he pointed out rather grudgingly. Well, not in the exact words, not anymore, but some of his greetings definitely still sounded that way, although it could have been because this guy hadn’t really been a morning person. Not to mention it got a lot better after a month that passed since their _deal_.

“Oh yeah, I noticed how his undying love burns for you,” Minho snickered, patting Thomas’ shoulder again. “But man, I also noticed how _you_ are trying to get his attention all the time.”

“I just want to understand why he’s so hostile towards me, while others are fine,” Thomas grumbled. It was still there after all. Still palpable distance between them Thomas was afraid to cross, because it could send them back to the nasty talks, and he didn’t want that. “That’s not a crime.”

“Does it have to include your worshipping starry eyes?”

“Very funny,” Thomas pushed the Korean away, frowning to himself. Well, yes, fine, he had been _staring_ at times when he started mauling over the best tactics, but the fuck, it didn’t mean he wanted to bang him, did it? At least not in _his_ book.

“Is it? I dunno. Just want to express my condolences for picking such a fort to siege when it comes to dating,” Minho responded happily – maybe a bit too happily, really. Shouldn’t that weird him out at least? “He is not insuperable, but man, there is a loooong road ahead of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Thomas gave him an evil look and rather checked if Newt was still talking to his group and wasn’t standing at their desk, listening in horror. Because hell, this _would_ bea horror for him. “Just because I want us to be friends doesn’t mean I want to fuck him senseless.”

“I didn’t say anything about fucking,” Minho opposed calmly. “I said _dating_.”

“And how is dating included in trying to befriend him?” Thomas glared at him, trying to convey he should better shut up. Minho’s remarks were sharp like needles and he seriously didn’t need another bug into his head.

“Well, it’s a good start,” Minho offered. “But hey, we’re friends and you’re not making a heart eyes on me, so think about it.”

Thomas only grouched more.

***

“Do you have notes from the literature lesson from today?”

Thomas blinked and then blinked some more, the meaning of the words not getting to him at all. He was staring into brown eyes of his blond classmate and there was no response, zero voice options, null, nada.

Usually there was Minho sitting between them.

Now there was no one, just one free space of an unoccupied chair and next to it Newt watching him like Thomas grew another head, with pen clicking impatiently and silence surrounding them.

Him wanting to date Newt.

Just like that, making heart eyes on him, being unhealthily obsessed with the guy and really, for fuck’s sake, it made sense, didn’t it?

“Thomas,” Newt’s voice again, this time in a rather annoyed tone. “Have your brain short-circuited?”

“Yeah,” Thomas let out dumbly and pinched the bridge of his nose to reboot himself somehow. “Yeah, I think so. Sorry.”

“Ugh.”

“The notes,” the meaning finally got to him and he quickly fished his bag for the notebook and handed it to the blond with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“You okay?” there was a weird look again, when Newt was probably wondering if Thomas didn’t escape from a madhouse, and Thomas had to admit he had a reason for the thought. But then again he didn’t have such revelations every day; he had a right to be a little dumbfounded about it.

After knowing this guy for what, half a year? Probably less, maybe four, five months, he suddenly found himself unable to stop thinking about him. And as much as he was telling himself it was because he was upset about being disliked without a proper reason, the streak of jealousy every time Newt showed his nice, friendly side to somebody else told him a wholesomely different story.  

He was kinda pretty, wasn’t he? Like, genuinely pretty, even when he was frowning, there was something attractive in it, especially with those big, brown eyes and all. And really, why Minho even mentioned it? Thomas just _knew_ nothing good was going out of it when that idea got planted into his head, and here he was, thinking his classmate who hated him with passion was attractive and he wouldn’t mind asking him out.

If there wasn’t a probability around 0,0001% that he wouldn’t tell him to go fuck himself and never talk to him again.

“Fine,” he answered anyway and offered a smile. “Thanks for asking though.”

Another annoyed look.

“Thanks for the notes,” Newt mumbled and averted his eyes again. Thomas didn’t blame him. He had enough problems with blaming himself right now for being so damn fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Well. At least Thomas knows now xD


	5. A Bitter Victory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re terrible,” Newt growled at him. “And I hate you.”  
> “He’s a friend and you’re overreacting,” Minho patted his back. “You don’t need to talk to him, geez. Just watch the movie, all is going to be fine.”  
> “That doesn’t change the fact I still hate you,” Newt uttered.   
> Although yes, Newt had to give Thomas kudos for not even trying to talk to him, except of the mandatory hello they had to exchange so his soul would rest in peace.

“Soooo… what happened?”

“What do you mean what happened?” Newt glanced at Minho with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t even sure why he agreed to go out with him and Alby out in the evening, but it was Friday and no other plans occurred to him, so it was probably still better than being bored at home alone.

“With you and Thomas,” Minho elaborated while pulling his glass with beer closer and Alby seemed to take an interest in the conversation, since he gave Newt a curious look.

“I don’t follow,” Newt uttered dryly. The thing with Thomas was weird, it continued being weird and he was pretty sure it would stay weird until their paths would finally take a different turn and Newt would get rid of him. Yes, he did agree on the _greeting_ game, even though sometimes he felt more like biting his tongue off would be better, but that was about everything that changed. Thomas was still insufferable in his own way and no _hi_ or _bye_ was going to have an impact.

“You mean with that praise junkie?” Alby added to the conversation vividly and Newt mentally slapped him for calling Thomas that in front of Minho.

“That’s harsh,” Minho snorted. “Praise junkie? Really?”

“He’s just annoying, that’s all,” Newt concluded unhappily. “And nothing happened, Minho.”

“Except you started to be kind of civil with him,” of course Minho didn’t spare him. “So something gotta.”

Newt groaned and took a swing of his own beer. The _talk_ they had, it felt like it was _years_ ago for some reason, but it still made him question Thomas’ sanity – and quite frankly even his own. When somebody didn’t like you, why would you demand a forced camaraderie?

“His annoyance level got so high that we barked at each other and he demanded a truce,” he sighed dramatically. “So truce it is. Sort of. Didn’t change the fact he’s getting on my nerves and I love him the most when he’s far from me.”

“Gotta love the irony…” Minho shook his head and Newt made a face at him.

“It’s not irony, it’s a sad truth.”

“Didn’t mean you, but sure,” Minho winked at him and when Alby started to laugh, Newt decided not to pry anymore. There was a saying about the wardrobes and skeletons after all.

“Also, I had a brilliant idea!” Minho continued much more lively. “Saturday night, horror movie, bunch of other scaredy-cats, popcorn and unhealthy amount of-,”

“That’s already unhealthy enough,” Newt rolled his eyes. “You suck. I’m in.”

“Same,” Alby grinned. “What are we watching?”

“I thought both Conjuring movies, Annabelle and As above, so below?” Minho shrugged and Newt considered it an all-nighter in that case. It had been ages since they did that, even though before it usually hadn’t been horrors they watched, but all kind of stuff others brought and loved (once even a porn, but that ended sooner than it started and Newt still laughed about it until now).

“Oh boy,” Alby mumbled. “Gotta bring second pants as well then.”

They made a toast on that and laughed until the other table’s guest asked them to kindly shut the hell up.

***

 Newt liked the meet ups. They were usually pretty much fun, with occasional alcohol poisoning or barfing that was hearable all the way from the toilet to the living room. Usually about half of them didn’t really care about movies, but only wanted to drink, so in the end the living room was full of pass out people against which still reasonable sober ones propped and ate popcorn.

Today was something else though. Not only there were horrors on the line, but the worst horror of them all arrived shortly after Newt did and his name was Thomas. It didn’t matter how threateningly Newt glared at Minho for inviting the guy, Minho always just grinned at him and sent him a flying kiss, which made him even madder.

“You’re terrible,” Newt growled at him. “And I hate you.”

“He’s a friend and you’re overreacting,” Minho patted his back. “You don’t need to talk to him, geez. Just watch the movie, all is going to be fine.”

“That doesn’t change the fact I still hate you,” Newt uttered.

Although yes, Newt had to give Thomas kudos for not even trying to talk to him, except of the mandatory _hello_ they had to exchange so his soul would rest in peace.

“Wait, is that him?” Alby appeared with a big bowl of popcorn and Newt was already regretting telling him about the problem with Thomas. “He looks harmless.”

“I never said he’s dangerous,” Newt uttered and snatched the popcorn from his arms. “Just annoying.”

“Seems like he’s minding his own business?” his friend pointed out while watching Thomas moving around the place while helping Minho carrying all the bottles. He was rather docile, definitely more than normally, and Newt thought it was mostly because he didn’t know majority of people. Although Minho was trying to remedy the fact, judging from his vivid talking to everybody they met on their way from outside of the house and back.

“That’s called common sense,” he snorted in response and Alby shook his head. “If you knew him the well I do, you’d agree.”

Alby only rolled his eyes and left to put the bowl on the coffee table, between other food already prepared.

Newt seriously didn’t care if he was the only one that thought Thomas was probably an alien from the look of it, he had his reasons to think so and explaining it over and over was pretty useless. Even though he still felt like getting backstabbed when Alby willingly stopped Thomas from his quest to get more food from the car and started talking to him like he was a long lost friend, immediately pulling a smile from the guy and vivid replies as well. Newt smelled _I told you so_ intent behind Alby’s actions and it just made him grouchier, so he rather disappeared in the kitchen to help with preparations.

***

“He’s a fun lad.”

_Of course._

Newt decided not to glare for now and only gave Alby an unimpressed look. It was a thing about Thomas – people simply liked him almost on 100 % from the first hello, except of Newt and Gally. It didn’t surprise him as much Alby was one of them, since he alone had been an easy going person who could make even tree talk if he wanted to.

“You sure there isn’t something else you don’t like?” Alby continued talking and Newt considered the glare option viable to make him understand it wasn’t the best topic he wanted to talk about. “Like… I dunno. You dated? He dumped you?”

“Are you bloody daft?” Newt stared at him with wide eyes. _Dating_ Thomas? No bloody hell! He couldn’t even count the wrongs in it on both hands! “Do I need to start hating you as well from now on?”

“Just sayin’,” Alby shrugged, apparently not even remotely afraid Newt would really fulfil the threat. “I can’t a point a finger on why would you hate him if he didn’t do anything. You never disliked talkative people before.”

“Alby,” Newt snapped angrily. “ _Leave it_.”

He was glad his friend finally got a memo and shut his mouth. If he needed proof Thomas was insufferable around him, he was going to get it today anyway.

***

Alby didn’t get any proof today. Thomas kept his distance like Newt was undermined, and didn’t say a single word – to him. He talked happily with others, maybe even excessively because they kept on asking him about the school and city he was in before moving here, but not a single glance fell on Newt. He didn’t demand any civil conversation, he didn’t ask stupid questions, he didn’t even have his idiotic remarks to make Newt snap at him.

Alby kept on sending him these _what’s your problem, seriously_ looks and Newt had a foolish thought of coming to Thomas, grab him by his shirt and shout at him for making him look like a liar in front of his friend.

He absolutely blew the evening for him – he couldn’t concentrate on any movie enough, he was agitated and jumpy, no food tasted right and he was feeling bitchy even to himself. No wonder barely anybody talked to him when he pushed them away with a glare and one-word answer. Even Minho seemed rather exasperated when giving Newt a pointed look and all he wanted to do was to scream _it’s Thomas fault!_ like a bloody idiot.

He wasn’t even sure why he decided to stay there for so long when all he got was a stomach ache and a dull, annoyed feeling in his gut that was telling him he emitted an unfriendly aura like a beacon of darkness. It didn’t diminish even when he left to the kitchen and sat there like a grumpy old man with a mug of something that tasted terrible – he only grew wary of himself even more.

Seriously, one guy and he was so worked up over him? It was never so bad with Alby, and Minho usually did the same – inviting him to parties and everything, until Newt got used to him. Yes, he bitched about it, but never felt the mixture of dread and self-disgust for it like he did with Thomas.

Because, let’s be fair, Alby was somehow right. Thomas had been a fun guy, _for others_. He could joke with everybody, he helped them, he was surprisingly smart as well. If Newt wanted to point a finger on _what_ was that terrible, terrible thing that made him so angry, he found himself unable to answer.

Just _something_. Maybe the way Thomas looked at him? Or the tone he used? Or the insistence of being friendly even though Newt didn’t want him to be? Didn’t reciprocate from the first hello? Because if somebody was as antagonistic as Newt had been, a normal person would keep their distance, right?

_Well. He keeps it now._

Newt blinked at the revelation while staring into his mug, and felt so bloody ridiculous it would be off the chart. Thomas left him alone, apparently. He did what Newt had wanted. And it made Newt even angrier?

“Oh, sorry, didn’t know you’re here.” A voice shattered his thoughts like a brick and he found himself staring at the cursed person in all his glory, approaching the table with an empty bowl, apparently sent to re-fill it.

He was not able to answer with anything proper, so he kept the silence and Thomas seemingly decided to do the same.

It was weird, right? This was not Thomas’ usual behaviour. He would chatter away, maybe talk about the movie or something to fill the silence, and yet he moved around mutely like Newt was just piece of furniture he only had to be careful not to knock over.

“What’s your problem?” That question shot out of him without Newt being able to stop himself. It was like a stray bullet searching for the right target, and it made Thomas stiffen mid-move and look at Newt like deer caught in highlights.

“I’m sorry?” he said with evident confusion and Newt would understand, but he was so damn fed up his rational thinking simply didn’t work.

“You demand a truce like a caveman and now you don’t even talk to me?” another bullet, but this time it had a target and Newt only didn’t know why he kept on firing. He got what he wanted. Why was he so stupidly worked up over it?

“Um…” Thomas looked rather taken back and Newt kept on staring. It was a perfect situation that would fit into one of those horror movies – in the script it would be named _scene of a demon possession._ Because really, a demon had to make him do it. Couldn’t he be satisfied he reached his goal of making Thomas shut up around him? After half a bloody year?

“Isn’t it what you’ve wanted?” the brunet finally said, but the confusion stayed. “Not to talk I mean.”

“And isn’t talking what _you_ have wanted?” Newt shot back and felt his body tensing like a string on a bow, ready to play Robin Hood routine. Just the apple was missing and he would probably shoot Thomas instead anyway.

“Well,” Thomas adopted an uncomfortable look and Newt realized he never saw it on him before. He acted confident in everything, _this_ was probably breaching his borders. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“You what?” Newt blurted out when the meaning of the words got to him and Thomas rubbed the back of his neck as if he felt awkward for even explaining.

“Changed my mind,” he repeated in a low voice. “I thought it would change something, but it’s even worse, so… It’s not worth the effort, I guess.”

“Not worth the effort?” Newt repeated with wide eyes. _Not worth the bloody effort_? Was he trying to start a fight or something?

“Yeah.” Here came _the shrug_ , basically saying _stuff it_. “I mean… I thought it would work, but I don’t feel good doing it, and you either, so I decided to play by your rules. I will still say hi and everything, but…”

“You’re giving up?” Newt wasn’t entirely sure _why_ he asked this, but his brain felt like it froze over somehow, and when Thomas simply nodded while looking like it didn’t even bother him, all Newt had wanted was to take something heavy and hit him over his head. Repeatedly.

“Sorry for bothering you wanting to be your friend… I guess,” Thomas added, although it sounded more like an attack than a sincere apology, and grabbed the popcorn so he could put it in the bowl. “Should have listened to you the first time. You can’t like everybody.”

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

Newt wanted to say something sharp and annoyed, but couldn’t get it past his lips, no matter how hard he tried. Before he could even fight the feeling of being pushed away defeated, Thomas left the kitchen like a shadow and left him sitting there like a child that did something wrong and they sent it in the corner to sulk.

He won though right? He got what he wanted. So why did he feel so bloody betrayed over it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I swear I've never dragged a fic like I did with this one x.x Also sorry, Newt! For making you so pissy, haha. Guess I just needed to kick him off the high horse.


	6. A Truce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The math notes,” he finally let out and Thomas blinked. “Can you lend them to me?”  
> Well, that was rather polite. Almost creepily so.  
> “What, the math notes were all you’ve wanted?”  
> “Well, what did you think I’ve wanted? A bloody kiss?” Newt rolled his eyes and closed one of the notebooks, apparently Minhos’.

Thomas almost dropped the bowl for five times before he finally reached the living room again where he could safely put it down. His hands were unsteady and if he could, he would first take a breather somewhere vacant, get a grip, before sitting down among the crowd of boys watching horrors.

He didn’t expect Newt to react like this. Hell, he wasn’t even ready for him to react anyhow, he thought giving them both space would be the best thing, because let’s be honest, he felt like exploding for most of the time in the close vicinity of the blond. Having them talk would be even worse – so maybe returning to the previous state of Newt hating his guts without forcing himself not to would help, yeah?

Well, it sort of did, until they spoke in the kitchen. And they didn’t even need to – Thomas would keep his mouth shut, he was willing to be quiet as a mouse and run away the moment the popcorn was ready. He had no idea why Newt decided he wanted to accuse him of not talking. It was his own wish, dammit! For once Thomas did what he wanted without any prolonged fight and suddenly it was wrong as well? And it wasn’t fucking easy either! Of course he wanted to talk to Newt more, to know him better, to actually live though “coming around” phase Alby promised that would happen. But the more he tried, the more Newt kicked around himself and that simply didn’t look like a blossoming friendship, did it.

And now giving up made the blond even more attacking and Thomas seriously didn’t understand him anymore.

“All good?” Minho glanced at him with a raised eyebrow and Thomas nodded. “You missed Alby shrieking like a girl.”

“I did not _shriek like a girl_ ,” Alby immediately shot back. “It was manly as hell.”

“Whatever you say, lady,” Minho grinned and Thomas decided to let the problem with Newt go as long as it was possible. His head already hurt enough by itself.

***

“Thomas, can you lend me your math notes?”

At first Thomas almost ignored it, probably out of habit, until it kicked him that it was his name Newt had used in the surprisingly polite request. There was Minho sitting between them, as always, his math notes pretty much available, and yet Newt was looking at him over the black hair of their classmate, almost like Minho hadn’t even been there.

“Or do you have a waiting line or secret password for it,” Newt added, this time with a hint of annoyance, and Thomas felt piqued by it, almost to the point of childishly saying _no, I won’t lend it to you, because you’re a prick_.  “Jesus, are you even listening?”

 _That’s it_.

“I don’t have the whole lesson written down,” he uttered, averting his eyes. “Pretty sure Minho does though. I spaced out a lot.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he heard Minho whining under his breath and fished the notebook from his back, tossing it in front of Newt with a sigh. “Why do I have to be in the middle of your shitstorm all the time?”

“Sorry,” Thomas mumbled and scribbled down something that should have been a year from history the teacher wrote on the blackboard, but it looked suspiciously like _murder_ instead. “Thanks.”

It was weird, but the more Thomas had been thinking about the scene at Minho’s house two days ago, the less he understood Newt’s motivation, and his will to find out kept on diminishing like on a slope. Seriously, if Newt wanted to talk to him, if he somehow changed his mind, why didn’t he? All Thomas got were the usual unhappy glares and remarks, so what gave him the right to act all offended when Thomas gave up? Not to mention he seemingly fed all his friends with how terrible Thomas was and how he disliked him, so really, the sudden offence in Thomas leaving him be was fucking hypocritical.

And he was mad about it, because everybody kept on telling him how good friend Newt was, how nice he had been to people around – although he had mostly seen him sarcastic to the point of offensive too, but maybe it was his way to show affection.  

For Thomas? Antagonistic, pissy, foul mouthed. And as much as Thomas had been naïve in a hope he would get past the initial barrier, that he would actually make Newt at least respect him, now he had enough.

“I can’t read shit from your notes,” he heard Newt grumble when opening Minho’s notebook. “That’s why I asked the princess over there.”

Thomas almost literally felt the _snap_ that went off in his head. Like a grenade right before throwing it, or a dynamite that was few seconds from exploding.

“Do you have a fucking problem, Newt?” he barked and the expression on the blond’s face would probably be comical, if he wasn’t so fucking _done._ “I don’t know what else should I do for you to be fucking satisfied!”

“Thomas, do you have something to tell us?” the teacher’s voice pulled him out from the anger fit and he realized the whole classroom had been silent and staring at him like he grew another head. Even Minho looked rather shocked and Thomas wondered why it didn’t make him calm down at least, for the sake of his reputation. The pissed off mood stayed though, so he only shook his head, apologized while packing his things, and left the classroom like a tidal wave.

***

**Minho – 11:21 – Nice explosion, man.  Have you decided to switch personalities with the blondie? He looks so bummed out.**

Thomas ignored the text for an hour, although Minho did nothing wrong. He went straight home and fell on his bed like sack of potatoes, the lameness of his actions slowly getting to him. To be honest he was never a short-tempered person. He rarely snapped like that, and in front of somebody, it was almost unreal. He had no idea how Newt was able to lure that mood out without even trying that hard – hell, Thomas thought he was crushing on him so bad he would excuse everything.

Now? All he wanted was not to talk to him again if he could help it. The desperate hopelessness was growing in him gradually since the movie night, and maybe it was also because he overthought it, but hell, if he seriously fell in love with the guy, wouldn’t it be a form of masochism?

Of course, Newt definitely was pretty and everything. Thomas didn’t deny the fact that despite him being a boy, there was an evident attraction, only fouled every time the blond opened his mouth.

**Minho – 12:45 - Well, fine, sulk. I’m just warning you – he took your number. He’s going to yell, probably. So prepare new underwear.**

Thomas stared at the text with wide eyes, successfully pulled out from the hole of self-pity he fell into. Newt had his number? _Why_?! Seriously, was this some kind of reversed psychology?

**Thomas – 12:46 – You gave him my number???**

**Minho – 12:47 – Nope. But Brenda did, bless her soul. He didn’t even ask me for it.**

“For fuck’s sake…” he took a deep breath and sat up on his bed. Maybe switching off his phone would help? But then nobody would be able to reach him and he wasn’t up to hear Teresa bitch about it. So he put the device back on the bedside table like it was a timed bomb and left it there.

If Newt was going to text him – or call him – he knew it wouldn’t be pleasant.

***

Newt didn’t call or text and Thomas refused to admit he checked the phone the whole day until he finally went to sleep (and check it several more times during the night when he woke up definitely _not_ because of it).

There was no wonder he woke up grumpy, badly rested and went to school only with the highest amount of disgust even Teresa held back with her usual remarks. He noticed his blond nightmare sitting on his usual spot like nothing happened and Minho was missing, which was already alarming (not really because he would be worried about Minho’s physical health – the mental one was already questionable, but that was why Thomas liked him so much – but because it meant there was no barrier between him and Newt altogether). He contemplated leaving once more, but then again he wasn’t scared of that thin somebody, was he? He was pretty able to hold his ground when it came down to it, so if Newt wanted to have a shout fest for whatever reason over stupid math notes (or who knew what exactly was his problem this time, maybe Thomas didn’t wear matching colours of his clothes?), he could have it.

“Morning,” he said in reasonably neutral voice and Newt glanced at him from the notebooks he had spread over his side of the desk. There was a weird, itching thought of actually apologizing for yesterday, but when the blond only scoffed and returned back to what he was doing, Thomas buried that thought under tons of denial.

“Where’s Minho?” he rather asked, because Minho was his safeguard against Newt’s moods, and today the mood looked pretty bad from the first hello (or no hello, in his case).

“Do I look like his nanny?” came a reply Thomas actually kind of expected, and an annoyed grunt after, although it probably wasn’t exactly aimed at him.

“Geez, sorry I asked about your friend,” Thomas rolled his eyes and tossed his bag on the table with a loud thud.

_Why do I even bother?_

“Isn’t he your _friend_ too?” Newt stopped writing and stared at him with a blank expression. “Why do you bother me with it?”

“I wonder, all I get from you makes me wanna slap you with newspaper,” Thomas uttered dryly and seriously regretted he didn’t decide to stay home today, like Minho wisely done it seemed. Not that he blamed him, sitting between them proved to be quite an ordeal lately.

“Here we go again…” he heard Newt mumble and glared at him from his seat.

“Seriously,” he bit out unhappily. “What exactly do you want from me now? Because I thought giving you your precious space is the goal, judging from your behaviour towards me. Which is pretty awful by the way, but I guess that’s how you want it.”

“Do I look like I want something from you?” Newt glared back at him and _yeah_ , he did look like he wanted something from Thomas, but he couldn’t tell what. Maybe he just wanted to argue or he punch him, he had no idea. But there _was_ something.

“Yeah, you do,” Thomas responded honestly. “And it’s confusing the fuck out of me. So why don’t you spell it out?”

Newt tilted his head to the side, like he was analysing him, and then let out a small, exasperated sigh. Thomas expected him to shook his head and remain quiet, or maybe tell him something about dimwits, but when he kept on watching Thomas without a word, it was like he searched for words and couldn’t really find them.

“The math notes,” he finally let out and Thomas blinked. “Can you lend them to me?”

Well, that was rather polite. Almost creepily so.

“What, the math notes were all you’ve wanted?”

“Well, what did you think I’ve wanted? A bloody kiss?” Newt rolled his eyes and closed one of the notebooks, apparently Minhos’.

“I won’t judge,” Thomas shrugged and yeah, he probably earned that specific glare, so he reached for his bag and pulled his notebook out. When Newt reached for it, he snatched it away before he could take it. “A truce it is then?”

“I didn’t ask for a truce,” Newt retorted guardedly.

“Yeah, but you keep on talking to me.”

“All I did was ask for the bloody notes, Freud,” Newt pointed out, but there wasn’t that bad bite he always had before. Maybe they were getting somewhere?

“Yeah, and you also asked why I gave up on talking to with you,” Thomas opposed and Newt made a face. “That’s why I asked what you want now. Because quite frankly being at war with you is annoying, but I can do it if you really insist. Not going to go easy on you though.”

“All I need to do is stay away from you, or my IQ would drop,” Newt shot back. “Not going to go easy on me, you’re cute.”

“You started it.”

“Bloody hell, can you stuff it already? The notes or shut up,” Newt opened his palm and waited, and Thomas kind of wanted to hit him with the notebook instead. Nothing was easy with this guy, was it?

“The answer or go ask for notes elsewhere,” Thomas barked back and it made Newt look a little taken back. “So?”

“I already agreed on your _civil conversation_ conditions before, didn’t I?” the blond pointed out and it seemed like he was searching for a way out from admitting he wanted to talk to Thomas normally. Or at least as normally as it was possible with them both.

“Sort of,” Thomas admitted. “But most of your greetings sounded like _fuck you_ , so I kind of gave up on it.”

Not to mention it was easier not to try in vain, because it always felt like getting stabbed. Sure, Thomas had crushes before, but with Newt it literally spelled _masochist_ if he continued.

“Well, that’s your problem,” Newt scoffed and crossed his arms on his chest. “I was honouring it.”

“Pretty lamely then.”

“Oi,” the blond turned to face him. “You were the one demanding it. If you forced a cat to take a bath, don’t you think you’d get scratched the shit out of you?”

“Are you considering yourself a cat?” Thomas raised an eyebrow at such image and Newt groaned.

“And this is why talking to you is lowering my IQ.”

“Funny,” Thomas smirked and finally handed him the notes. Newt watched him with suspicion for a moment, but then took them like he expected it could blow up in a second. “If you just said you don’t mind talking to me anymore, it would be much easier.”

“I mind talking to you, it’s like listening to a parrot,” Newt shot back while opening the notebook and his face cleared a little, probably because Thomas’ notes at least had some form apart from Minho’s code book. “But fine. A truce it is.”

“Cool,” Thomas commented, and it was a strange thing to have such a long conversation with the guy without wanting to strangle him somehow. “You need somebody to tutor you by the way?”

“Forget it,” Newt uttered and Thomas snorted.

_Worth a shot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Well, we're getting somewhere :D


	7. Bloody Soulmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve texted Thomas to tell you,” Minho responded over the line with a laugh. “Was much easier, since with him I at least knew he would actually inform you about it. But with you? You’d probably keep the poor guy in dark, just because you’re a dick.”  
> “Oi.”  
> Newt stared into the white ceiling of his room and it was weird that not even Minho’s cheery voice could make him lose the lousy mood. It usually did the trick somehow.   
> “So what happened?” he asked instead, his eyes skimming from corner to corner, just to busy his brain. “Was it at least worth it?”

Thomas wasn’t pushing it. It was actually surprising, because Newt thought he would, just to gloat a little, but nothing happened. He kept any remarks to himself and it felt like Minho was still sitting between them, creating a barrier that kept them apart for how quiet he was. It changed somehow since the Saturday movie night, like Thomas re-thought his approach to almost a scary degree, and Newt surprised himself for how dissatisfied he was with such outcome.

It wasn’t like he missed Thomas talking. They never even talked long, for fuck’s sake, there was nothing to miss. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him, actually trying to get it back on the line when Thomas decided it was _not worth it_ (maybe exactly that made him piqued, like _the hell I’m not worth it!_ Even though he wanted it, right? Maybe it was a bloody pride thing). Not to mention the yesterday scene of him leaving the classroom like he couldn’t stand to be in one room anymore made Newt literally appalled for a moment – nobody ever barked at him like that. Not to mention Thomas, who Newt somehow considered a puppy unable to fight back like this.

_Not a puppy then, huh._

The lone knowledge of him having his phone number was pretty weird as well. For a while he seriously wanted to call him and demand answers when Brenda easily delegated his contact to Newt, but he stopped himself in time. Why would he? And what would he even tell him? How he dared to shout at him in front of people or…?

_Yeah, stupid._

“Newt!” He blinked, momentarily disoriented, until he realized it was Thomas talking to him.

“Wha-?”

“You asleep or something?” Thomas looked him over doubtfully and Newt realized it wasn’t as curious as he used to. Before Saturday Thomas had something in his eyes that made Newt wonder what the hell he was thinking, something searching, maybe, insistent – and that something was gone now.

“Spaced out,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He slept badly and his mood was shitty, and he came to school with a weird, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he was nervous or dreading the confrontation with Thomas because of yesterday. Which was ridiculous – why would he be scared to talk to him? Even if it meant to argue as they always did.

“I said Minho broke his arm,” Thomas apparently repeated what he had been saying before and Newt stared at him in a momentary confusion. “He just texted me. He’s waiting in the hospital now.”

“He broke his arm?” Newt repeated, exasperated. “Genius.”

Wait, he didn’t even bother to let Newt know as well? Well, that was bitter.

“Said I should tell you as well,” Thomas added as if he was reading his mind and that thought was rather scary. Newt sometimes wouldn’t like to be in his head as well. “Typing is a whack for him right now. And he won’t come to school today.”

“Figures,” Newt uttered. Why was he so bothered about small things like Thomas stopping to be annoying and insisting to talk? This was not how it went with Alby and Newt thought it could have been similar. Sure, Alby was kind of insistent too, but like… generally talking to everybody and not pressuring Newt to anything. Yet Thomas cornered him and demanded being civil with each other, just to abandon it by himself like he lost interest.

Wait, was that it? He lost interest? Found out Newt was actually too grumpy or too unfriendly to be bothered by wasting his time and breath? Was Newt really so damn hard to befriend or deal with?

“Something on your mind?” Thomas asked and Newt realized he had been staring at him like on a holy picture, probably unblinking and lost in thought. Thomas used to smile a lot, didn’t he? Before Saturday. When they managed to talk _normally_ , he usually seemed happy about it.

He didn’t look very thrilled now. Why?

“No,” Newt averted his eyes back to the notebook. “Not at all.”

***

“I’m hurt and betrayed you didn’t even text me, mate.”

“I’ve texted Thomas to tell you,” Minho responded over the line with a laugh. “Was much easier, since with him I at least knew he would actually inform you about it. But with you? You’d probably keep the poor guy in dark, just because you’re a dick.”

“Oi.”

Newt stared into the white ceiling of his room and it was weird that not even Minho’s cheery voice could make him lose the lousy mood. It usually did the trick somehow.

“So what happened?” he asked instead, his eyes skimming from corner to corner, just to busy his brain. “Was it at least worth it?”

“Eh, not really,” Minho whined and Newt could hear dishes clanking. He was probably in the kitchen, looking for something to eat and he just waited for another voices telling him to get out with that broken arm. “Just rushed out of the doors in the morning and a kid on a bike shot me down.”

“A kid on a bike.”

“Yeah, like, twelve years old brat,” Minho chuckled, not sounding very angry about it. Newt couldn’t say if he wasn’t pulling his leg or if he was serious. “He got few bruises, I’ve got it worse. He was with me in the hospital, his mum came and smacked him over his head so loud a doctor peeked out of the room.”

Newt snorted at the image and kind of felt sorry for the kid, if it was really as Minho said. He could be quite a tank, so not looking right and left was kind of a standard for him.

“And how did you fare at school, my young padawan? Good to know you’re still alive, and Thomas apparently too.” Of course Minho had to breach the only topic Newt didn’t want to talk about. “Was afraid without me there playing a human shield you’d kill each other.”

“We called it a truce,” Newt mumbled with a slight frown. For some reason Thomas didn’t even look happy about it when they agreed on it, which made Newt rather confused. “So no killing unless we do something horrible to each other. Like eat the other one’s doritos.”

“Shocking,” Minho whistled. “You actually gave in?”

_Was more like me pushing it…_

“Am I really that horrible?” he couldn’t help but ask and immediately regretted it. Minho never had a problem with him. If anybody knew – it was Alby.

“You’re just difficult,” his friend answered anyway. “Although to Thomas you had been extra difficult, couldn’t really point a finger on why though. And why not anymore either.”

“I dunno. He was weird on Saturday and when I confronted him about it, he said I’m not worth the effort,” Newt responded almost on automatic and then stiffened. That was definitely _not_ something he wanted to say, for fuck’s sake!

“Wow, savage,” Minho laughed – and really, shouldn’t he have been on his side? “Well, can you blame him? You gave him shit for nothing, man.”

“Is not liking somebody a crime?” Newt barked back and Minho’s laughter got louder.

“Well, not liking somebody is all fine, blondie, but your degree of dislike was like a punch, you know,” he told him honestly and Newt had to admit he was too rough at times. Thomas never really did anything to offend him, except of trying to befriend him – and then being annoying and naggy. When Newt thought about it, he could never really tell what Thomas was thinking at any given circumstances. What was his aim? Why being a friend with somebody who obviously didn’t want to?

“It’s pissing me off I can’t tell what he’s thinking,” he complained out loud and Minho made a thoughtful noise. “I usually don’t have a problem to know what people are after.”

“Hm, maybe he’s _the one_?” Minho was definitely grinning now and Newt wondered if he could send a kick over the phone.

“Oh yes, my bloody soulmate, you tit,” he grumbled and tossed on his side. The ceiling started to be a bit boring. “Remind me tomorrow to tell him I love him, okay?”

“Oh yeah, don’t you worry,” Minho assured him happily. “Should I bring my guitar? I can do a pretty mean solo. You can consider it a romantic gift to you two happy lovebirds.”

“Please do,” Newt rolled his eyes. “So I can smack your head with it, giving you a concussion as an addition to your fucked up arm.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Minho made smooching noises and Newt grunted and hung up.

_I need new friends._

***

Newt wasn’t really a type for home studying if he didn’t need to for a test, but he found it as a great idea when his mind wouldn’t shut up about things he didn’t want to think about. So he rather took Thomas’ notes and started re-writing them to his own notebook, just to stop at a passage that looked more like unintelligible scribbles than handwriting. No matter how he looked it, he had no idea what it said and the passage under it already belonged to today’s lecture.

“The hell is this nonsense?” he grumbled, pulling out his phone and taking a photo of it, sending it to Thomas without thinking. It got to him a minute later that he just texted him out of blue, revealing he had his number he didn’t want to use _at any circumstances_.

But then the phone bleeped and Newt stared at the text with wide eyes, expecting about anything from the guy. Maybe even _leave me alone_ or something similar to it.

**Thomas – 19:12 – Oh. That looks like my “spacing out” phase during the lecture. Sorry. Warned ya.**

“Ah,” he felt a wave of relief over the non-attacking text and it was a little ridiculous. Seriously, what exactly changed at Saturday, he wondered? Not just for Thomas, but for him as well?

**Newt – 19:20 – Okay, doesn’t matter. Will fill it up later. Thanks though.**

He changed his reply about five times and then hit send with a heavy sigh.

**Thomas – 19:22 – No problem :) Again, my offer for tutoring stands if you need it. Or ask Minho, he’s an ace in math as well, if I’m not your forte :P**

“I know he is,” Newt mumbled, reading through the recommendation. Minho was definitely smart, but Thomas was too and as much as Newt didn’t consider himself stupid, math simply didn’t work for him, no matter how hard he tried to understand it by himself.

**Newt – 19:25 – Can you drop it already? I thought we buried the hatchet.**

Well, that sounded rather attacking again, didn’t it.

**Thomas – 19:27 – Sorry, sorry. Force of habit, still expecting you to stab me in the back :D**

**Newt – 19:30 - I’d use poison, don’t insult me, mate.**

**Thomas – 19:31 – I’d never ;) Poison sounds clever.**

**Newt – 19:33 – Naturally. Never thought of being a professional assassin?**

**Thomas – 19:35 – For a while, after playing Assassin’s creed. Who did not?**

Newt snorted and closed both notebooks with a quiet hum. He could do this, talking to him like that didn’t look difficult. Maybe he was even a decent chat when given a chance, that was already saying something.

**Thomas – 19:40 – You’re actually pretty fun to talk to, just sayin’. See you tomorrow at school :)**

Newt reread the text for several times and his thumb hovered over _reply_ button for a long moment, before he forced himself to put the phone away.

_A pretty fun to talk to._

Seriously, what was that guy actually thinking? And why did it bloody bother him when he didn’t know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Well, Newt's onto something there.


	8. Sparkly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It looks good on ya,” the blond shrugged, clearly having a ball with it. “All manly and stuff.”  
> “Fuck you too,” Thomas grumbled, sneezing again, sending Brenda into another laughing fit.   
> “Aw, but I thought we are playing it nice now?” Newt grinned at him and seriously pushed his luck while sitting on Minho’s spot, in much closer vicinity. “What’s with that ugly language?”  
> “You give me a bath and I’ll consider being nice again,” Thomas fumed and at least tried to clean his desk, with no success. “This shit is not coming down, is it?”

“Thanks for lending it to me.”   

Thomas hummed while taking the notebook over Minho’s head and realized his black haired classmate was staring at him with raised eyebrows like he did something magical, like pulling bunnies out of the hat or ensuring world peace.

“What?”

“Maybe you wanna change seats with me?” Minho offered and Thomas knew that expression wasn’t up to no good. “I mean you told me hi this morning and that was it. If you two need to chat so desperately and I’m in a way, I’ll gladly switch.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Newt commented on it with a sigh. “I think I still owe him the concussion.”

“You owe him a concussion?” Thomas asked in confusion and when Minho started to grin like a Cheshire cat, he rather left it alone. Who knew what was he up to.

“Well, I don’t want to kill him per se, maybe just cripple him a little,” Newt responded anyway and Thomas smirked. Sure, Newt was a bit harsh with words, but it was part of his personality. When you realized it didn’t really mean anything insulting and he just showed he cared like that, it was funny as hell.

“Pretty sure there’s a poison for it as well,” he added just for good measure and it was probably the first time he heard Newt laugh because of him.

“I may think of a thing or two,” Newt concluded and Thomas tried very hard to pretend he didn’t see Minho eying him while looking like he wanted to use a lamp for interrogation.

He wouldn’t lie – the fact Newt texted him yesterday was like a bolt out of blue. Sure, it was because his notes were messy and all, but he didn’t need to write to him like that, just simply skip it and beat him with the notebook today.

But nope, he asked about it and then actually engaged in a normal, amusing conversation Thomas enjoyed (Teresa called him out on it, because he was sitting in the living room at that moment with them watching a movie and when he kept on nursing his phone, she thought it was suspicious and demanded to know if he was dating somebody). He didn’t know if it was easier for Newt to be nicer while texting, so he didn’t come to school with very high hopes, but Newt actually remained laidback even here, and Minho had a point while telling him they talked a lot, which was unusual.

 _Why_ was a good question though. Was it because Thomas wanted to give up? It gave Newt a push he needed to realize he actually wanted to talk to him after all? Talk about stubborn.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention though. Not that he would tell him – or Minho on that matter – anyway.

***

“Listen to this,” Brenda appeared in front of him like a ghost and he almost yelped when she dropped in front of him like a tank. “ _His face was white as marble and his eyes sunken and empty_.”

They had an hour before another lesson would start and Thomas decided it was not worth it to go out with Minho and the gang, so he rather stayed in the classroom. It might also have been because Newt stayed as well, although he looked like he didn’t really want to be bothered. Thomas just kind of waited for an opening and sincerely hoped he didn’t look like he did.

„If that’s how your boyfriend looks like, I’m kinda afraid,“ he commented on the line, making Brenda grumble something incoherent while looking back into the text.

“Can you at least pretend to appreciate the creativity?” she asked him with an exasperated sigh. “You have no taste.”

“I can’t help it, it’s like Twilight all over again,” he grinned at her. “Does he also sparkle?”

He couldn’t really say anything more, because suddenly there was _glitter_ everywhere, snowing down at him without mercy and Brenda was laughing like crazy and Thomas sneezed and it came out all glittery and colourful. His clothes were literally covered by it and his desk reminded of a gay disco club floor.

“Well, now this is some Twilight shit,” he heard Newt’s voice behind him, and before he could turn around, a hand ruffled his hair, sending the rest of the glitter everywhere. “Hello, Sparkle.”

Then the blond circled him, holding an empty can of glitter while smirking smugly and Thomas sneezed again, just to send it further around him like a contagious fan of Edward Cullen.

“Thank you!” Brenda gave him a high five. “He doesn’t know how to compliment people even if his life depended on it.”

“Filthy lies,” Thomas coughed and seriously didn’t look forward to the next lesson while looking like a walking Christmas tree. No matter how he tried to get rid of the sparkly stuff from his shirt it stayed like glued there. Damn Newt and his sense of revenge, really. “Was this really necessary?”

“It looks good on ya,” the blond shrugged, clearly having a ball with it. “All manly and stuff.”

“Fuck you too,” Thomas grumbled, sneezing again, sending Brenda into another laughing fit.

“Aw, but I thought we are playing it nice now?” Newt grinned at him and seriously pushed his luck while sitting on Minho’s spot, in much closer vicinity. “What’s with that ugly language?”

“You give me a bath and I’ll consider being nice again,” Thomas fumed and at least tried to clean his desk, with no success. “This shit is not coming down, is it?”

“Here I thought you have experience with glitter already,” Newt smirked and smeared the glitter off Thomas’ cheek, his touch burning, and somewhat sending a dangerous streak down Thomas’ spine.  “Wow, it’s really getting off badly though.”

“So, the bath?” Thomas tried, who knew why, maybe he just hated his life, and Newt rolled his eyes as expected.

“Seeing you naked would give me a trauma for the rest of my life, so no. Thank you. Don’t want to go blind this young,” he uttered and Thomas made a disagreeing noise.

 _Rude_.  

“He actually has a nice body,” Brenda added to the conversation casually, apparently only enjoying it until now. “I really liked his treasure tra-,”

“Yeah, thank you for your input, now shut the hell up,” Thomas covered her mouth in one swift movement, and when she only shrugged, he let go again, leaving her face glittery as well, which made him snicker.

“Only telling the truth,” she responded without care and her eyes narrowed suspiciously when she saw his laughing face. In a second she whipped out a small mirror and frowned. “Jackass.”

“What, _he_ started it,” he pointed at the blond. “He’s the jackass.”

“I’ve just made your life a bit more colourful,” Newt shrugged, playing with the empty can. “It’s the effort that counts, Mr. Treasure Trail.”

“I’m not even asking why you carry a can of glitter with you,” Thomas groaned at the nickname and was seriously glad Minho wasn’t here it or he would never hear the end of it.

“It’s my sisters’,” Newt glanced back at a petite blond girl sitting in a small group of girls, chattering happily; apparently not aware her brother stole something of hers. “Well. It was.”

“And you decided to borrow it and shower me with it for shit and giggles?” Thomas glared at him unhappily and it only made Newt grin at him (Thomas refused to admit it made his heart skip a beat though).

“As a fan of Twilight I thought you’d appreciate it,” Newt pointed out unmercifully.

“You know what I’m also a fan of?” Thomas tilted his head to the side and didn’t blame Newt for becoming a little guarded. He should have, there was shit-storm coming to him now. “ _Hugs_.”

“No.”

“Oh yes.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I so would.”

Thomas had to appreciate the attempt to get away, he really did, but Newt was simply not fast enough in the end. When Minho got back with others and saw them both covered in glitter while Newt literally pouted and Thomas couldn’t wipe the grin off his face, he only shook his head and said he was never going to leave them alone again.

***

**Newt – 17:41 – That shit is not coming down.**

**Thomas – 17:45 – And whose fault is it? :o**

**Newt – 17:47 – Yours! You smeared it all over me, you asshat.**

**Thomas – 17:48 – You started it, genius :P Is your sister at least angry enough for it?**

**Newt – 17:50 – Minor pissing contest. Would be better if she stopped laughing while trying to give me shit for it.**

**Thomas – 17:55 – Ha! Serves you right. Just so you know, my dog is now all glittery as well and if his poop will sparkle, I’ll send you a photo of it in a middle of the night.**

**Newt – 17:47 – A photo of his poop? You’re disgusting.**

**Thomas – 17:50 – You know you love me :P**

**Newt – 17:52 – Yes, a bloody soulmate, yadayadayada. I’m putting needles on your chair tomorrow, just so you know.**

Thomas laughed and chased Maze away from him when he tried to beg for food. There was still glitter here and there and his clothes were beyond salvation, but at least he felt good about getting his revenge right away.

He didn’t consider them fighting though, as Minho thought they were (which fine, in the end Newt did look pissed off, but not like he used to be before – and if he really was, he wouldn’t text Thomas about it either). For Thomas it was fun, even though the glitter attack was really mean and he had no idea what Newt was thinking when doing it, but hell if it wasn’t hilarious afterwards. Not that Teresa was happy about the flat sparkling when he came home and accidentally brushed against furniture (not to mention the bathtub, and Maze whose greeting always consisted of a pounce and rubbing against a person, so naturally the glitter stuck to him as well) or grabbed a handle, but it definitely wasn’t tragic or war-worthy.

**Thomas – 17:56 – You’re a pretty shitty vengeance planner, Mewt.**

He sent it, and then realized the autocorrect decided to be a bitch and changed the name into Pokémon-like fan-club, which made him bark a laugh.

**Thomas – 17:57 - *Newt, lol. No, wait, Mewt is better :D**

**Newt – 18:01 - …I don’t know what to tell you, mate.**

**Thomas – 18:03 – No worries, Mewt :D**

**Newt – 18:05 – Next time I’ll push the can of glitter down your throat >.<**

“How nice,” he smirked and sat down on his bed so he could dry his hair. He expected to find glitter on the pillow in the morning anyway, no matter how many times he washed it. He wondered if Newt was doing the same now, and if he was cursing Thomas to the hell and back. But really, it was him who started it, he couldn’t have expected him to leave it unpunished, could he?

And fine, maybe Thomas got a little overexcited with the hugging and stuff, but it was worth it. It was more like hugging a cat that didn’t want a bath (which corresponded with Newt’s previous statement, and somehow imagining him as a cat – a little Mewt – fitted), but it was fun anyway.

Maybe also kind of nice.

And his crush probably grew to a size of Texas as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> I don't need to try to control you  
> Look into my eyes and I'll own you with them moves like Edward  
> I've got the moves like Edward  
> I've got the moves like Edward~


	9. Indy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, it’s not because Thomas is there,” he assured his friend with a sigh. “I just don’t feel like it.”  
> “But it’s Indiana Jones marathon, dude,” Minho whined. “That’s like saying no to Jesus.”  
> “I never said yes to Jesus.”  
> “And see where it got you?” Minho opposed and then let out a sigh.

“Hi Mewt.”

“Hi Tommy.”

“What the…?” Minho stared at them with wide eyes like he had seen the apocalypse ready to start and Newt didn’t really blame him. When Thomas decided calling him _Mewt_ was funny, he decided pet naming him return would be only suitable response to it, instead of acting all mad.

Not to mention he wasn’t mad at all. Sure, it was ridiculous, but Newt didn’t feel like Thomas was insulting him by it or did out of spite. It was more like teasing and Newt could live with that.

“Sorry, no pet name for you, Minho,” Newt patted him over his back and the dumbfounded expression on Minho’s face stayed.

“Maybe you need to go through glitter-calypse to get one,” Thomas added to it easily. “Which I don’t think you want. I still feel like fairy godmother, you don’t get rid of this stuff that easily.”

“You two are getting creepier and creepier by each passing day,” Minho commented and his face morphed into an exasperated one. “Can you go back to hating each other? With this pace the school won’t be standing by the end of the week.”

“It’s already Friday though,” Newt pointed out. “Don’t you think you should have said so sooner?”

“I’m going to regret this,” Minho groaned and rubbed his eyes with his healthy hand. “But there is another movie night this Saturday in an honour to Harrison Ford and you can come if you promise you won’t make the house explode.”

“Did Ford die?” Newt raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the fact the movie night stood as an equivalent for _change_ between him and Thomas. It was an unreasonable worry, he knew that, but it still felt like if he went there, it would start something again and he didn’t know if he was ready.

“No,” Minho rolled his eyes. “At least not yet. Just an honour to a great actor, is all.”

“You think Ford is a great actor?” Thomas on the other side asked and he didn’t look very fazed by the fact the history was repeating itself. Or could be repeating, Newt wasn’t sure.

“I’m not going to express any opinion that could get me to the shit-storm you two can cause,” Minho exclaimed and maybe it was wise.

What wasn’t wise entailed looking at Thomas and earning a grin in return. Newt seriously wasn’t sure what the hell was wrong with him when his stomach made a weird summersault because of it.

***

“I’m not sure.”

“Don’t like Harrison Ford?” Thomas tilted his head to the side and Newt realized he already knew these gestures of his, which should have made Thomas easily readable. Yet he mostly couldn’t really tell what he was thinking, and that made him frustrated over it.

“I don’t mind him,” he opposed with a shrug, trying to keep the tumbling mind of his in check. “I mean, Indiana Jones is a classic. Just not sure I want to spend the weekend at Minho’s place again.”

“Well, nobody should force you to it,” Thomas smirked and Newt wasn’t sure why that reaction surprised him. What did he expect? Thomas to beg him to come? Why would he even? They were still sitting apart even with Minho not creating a barrier between them, and Newt found the gap rather dissatisfying – but breaching it by himself was not how he wanted to act, so he stayed stubbornly put.

“You’re probably happy to get from the witches’ lair once in a while,” he said with a snort – only the image of having two teenage females in the same flat was making his skin crawl. It was enough with his sister, having two of them there would probably send him to a madhouse.

“True,” Thomas agreed easily. “But they’re mostly fine. Except of that time of the month, then it’s better run and hide.”

“Figures.”

Thomas smirked and returned back to his own notes, seemingly closing the conversation without a proper conclusion. Newt felt lame for wanting to point that out, so he grudgingly remained quiet.

***

“Wait, you don’t want to come because Thomas is there again? I thought you’re okay now.”

Newt rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall behind his bed. Minho sounded rather disappointed and Newt didn’t know how to explain it without sounding like a weirdo. Because telling him he didn’t want the relationship they had with Thomas now to change again was creepy enough for his own ears, not to mention to Minhos’.

“No, it’s not because Thomas is there,” he assured his friend with a sigh. “I just don’t feel like it.”

“But it’s Indiana Jones marathon, dude,” Minho whined. “That’s like saying no to Jesus.”

“I never said yes to Jesus.”

“And see where it got you?” Minho opposed and then let out a sigh. “Oh well. But if you change your mind, you know you can come, yeah? Sleep nicely on it, tell me tomorrow?”

“Sleep nicely on it?” Newt repeated with a snort. “All the glitter is gone now, not possible.”

“Ask your sister for some,” Minho chuckled. “Newtie Fairy.”

“Ugh.”

He was pretty sure Minho was used to him hanging up without saying bye now.

***

**Thomas – 18:22 – It never occurred to me how bad the fourth Indiana Jones is.**

Newt blinked when the message arrived and Alby made a victorious cheer when thanks to that moment of carelessness he won the race in Mario Kart.

“Hey, that wasn’t fair,” he complained towards the screen, but Alby only grinned wider.

**Newt – 18:23 – Probably not as bad as me losing in Mario Kart because of you now :/**

“Minho trying to get you to the movie night?” Alby guessed, peeking at Newt’s display and the blond hid this phone under his hand and shook his head. It was a ridiculous gesture, like he had anything to hide, for fuck’s sake.

“He gave up this morning when I told you I won’t come,” he mumbled. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t go after all, if he kept himself glued to the couch, nothing could happen between him and Thomas, right? It wasn’t like he inevitably would fall into the arguing routine with him just because it was Saturday’s movie night.

“Poor guy, to be turned down like that,” Alby commented with a smirk. “Why didn’t you go anyway?”

“Well, why didn’t _you_ go?” Newt asked instead and his phone buzzed again.

**Thomas – 18:27 – Because of me :o It’s not like I beat you to it :P (I would though, ha!)**

_Cheeky._

“I don’t like Indiana Jones,” Alby shrugged simply. “Or Star Wars.”

“I know, you like Princess Bride instead,” Newt smirked and tried very hard to ignore how Alby’s expression grew more and more suspicious over the messages.

“Princess Bride is a classic,” Alby pointed out seriously.

“So is Indy.”

**Newt – 18:30 – Keep dreaming :P**

“So why didn’t you go?” Alby turned to face him and pointedly looked at the phone. “Cuz of that?”

“Because of my phone?” Newt raised an eyebrow, although he knew the innocent act didn’t work on Alby at all.

“Because of who’s texting you?”

**Thomas – 18:33 – You insult me :o I’m an ace in Mario Kart.**

“…No,” he responded maybe too slowly which gave Alby the answer he needed. “Look, it’s just Thomas, no biggie.”

“Thomas is texting you?” Now Alby seemed surprised and that was weird, since Newt really expected him to know about it from the first look. But then again how could he? It wasn’t like Newt made it obvious, or Thomas did on that matter.

“I said it’s no biggie,” he responded defensively, because he knew the expression Alby had on his face. It meant questions and they were not going to be pleasant.

“You hated his guts just a week ago,” his friend pointed out, and okay, that was a logical thing to say. “And now he texts you? Since when he has your number? Wait, are these some nasty texts or…?”

“No,” Newt sighed and looked back at the message. Their conversations over phones were mostly fun, Newt couldn’t say a single bad word about it. And today it was Thomas who initiated it, usually it had been Newt for some unexplainable reason. So maybe it already changed again, no matter the movie night or anything. “He just texted Indiana Jones 4 is a bad movie.”

“Huh,” Alby glanced at the phone and then back at Newt like he was trying to make sense in it. “That’s actually surprising?”

“Don’t rub it in, we called it a truce,” Newt offered. He had no idea how to explain it anyway. “That’s about it.”

“A truce,” Alby repeated. “And now he texts you about movies. Just like that.”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t mind,” another observation point and Newt shook his head.

“No, not really,” he added for a good measure, because he really didn’t mind it, and saw no reason saying the opposite. It wasn’t like it meant anything catastrophic.

“What changed?” Alby asked curiously, Mario Kart forgotten. “Because a week ago I really thought you’d rather shoot him on the Moon instead of spending time in the same room.”

“I dunno,” Newt said honestly. Because he didn’t know, it just happened. “Do we need to analyse it?”

“I guess not,” Alby shrugged, but it was apparent he still wanted to know. “I’m just wondering.”

**Thomas – 18:50 – Shia Le-whatever is just so weird in the movie. And the bloodthirsty ants even more. I think they were on crack when filming this.**

Newt glanced down at the phone and smirked. He had to admit he kind of understood now how Thomas was able to be friends with everybody. His humour was easy going and he could talk to about anybody, probably even a tree when he had a chance, and it would work. Was it this that made Newt so against him before? That he was so _easy_?

_Still no idea what he’s thinking though._

Like this it seemed that he enjoyed talking to Newt – or wanted to talk to him on that matter – but yesterday he didn’t even try to make Newt to come to the movie night, nor did he today. All he texted him about was the movie, and that was the first time he did in his own initiative.

From the beginning it looked like he wanted Newt’s attention somehow, but now it didn’t really look that way anymore. So maybe it was enough for him when he sort of befriended Newt in a long run, and called it a mission accomplished? Like some kind of a notch to the bedpost?

_I don’t want to be a notch._

He pinched the bridge of his nose, very well aware Alby was still watching him like he was trying to read him, and put the phone away.

“One more game?” he offered and his friend nodded in agreement and reached for the controller.

When he was racing Alby through the arena, it slowly, almost creepily so dawned on him. All those texts, all those talks in the classroom – Newt basically initiated them. And he did so because he wanted to. And he wanted to because…

“Woo, winner again!” Alby cheered and Newt felt blood draining from his face.

He wanted to because he was attracted to that damn bastard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Ten points to Mewt for figuring it out!


	10. Indecent Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I mean what are you really thinking,” he elaborated. “Right now.”  
> “Indecent things,” he said, because hey, it was the truth, although probably not the best to be revealed to this guy.  
> “What things?”  
> “That you’re usually not this meek,” Thomas pointed out. “Is this a part when you suddenly stab me in the stomach or something?”

Newt didn’t respond to the last couple of texts at all and he didn’t send a message even on Sunday so Thomas stopped pushing it. If the guy was in a bad mood or simply didn’t want to text anymore, it was safer not to antagonize him further with being persistent.

Although Thomas kind of wanted to be. It was just few days but he got used to receiving texts here and now, like a ritual, and the sudden lack of response or initiative on Newt’s side made him uneasy.

It didn’t mean he overstepped boundaries, did it? That Newt decided it was enough and got back to ignoring and quietly hating him, like in a trial run Thomas didn’t pass? Because that would be so damn awful after all they accomplished this week.

And sure, okay, Thomas knew crushing on the guy wasn’t the best approach, but he was doing his best to conceal it and be a casual friend, so that couldn’t be it either, could it? Newt didn’t know – Minho would never dare to tell him, since he was the only one who kind of knew about it. So what could be the cause of the sudden radio silence?

 _Maybe he’s just busy_ , he thought while staring at his phone like he was trying to summon the messages by the power of his sheer will. _Or he needs a break from me._

That stung a bit though.

The movie night was fine, although simply _not enough_ without Newt there. Sure, the last one didn’t really go that well, but Thomas was sure this one would maybe bond them a little better. He tried not to be too disappointed when Newt really decided not to come and rather stayed home playing Mario Kart.

He opened his contact with a sigh, and the last message in the conversation was still his text about Shia and nothing else. He reread it just in case he would find an offensive piece of information, but nothing popped up on him.

His hand hovered over _new message_ button, but in the end he left it be and sulked while watching Once Upon a Time with Brenda and eating popcorn.

***

Newt seemed in bad mood. Thomas didn’t find it as strange – it was Monday, too early for comfort and neither of them had coffee yet, or breakfast on that matter. But with Newt it was more than the lack of caffeine and hunger – he was seriously grumpy, even Minho held back around him with a worried crease between his brows.

“What’s wrong with him?” Thomas asked when they ventured to the cafeteria for a something to eat and Newt stayed in the classroom like a stubborn cat. Minho shrugged, apparently not very sure about the reason either.

“I haven’t seen him or talked to him over the weekend, so if something happened, I wasn’t told,” he confirmed Thomas’ suspicion. “He didn’t tell you either?”

“Nope, stopped answering the texts on Saturday,” Thomas responded truthfully and bought two sets of snacks, just in case Newt would accept the peace offering. “Sonja seems fine though, so I guess it’s nothing family-related or like… super serious, yeah?”

“Nah, just one of his moods, I suppose,” Minho waved his hand. “Leave him be. He’ll come around eventually.”

Except _leaving Newt be_ was pretty difficult lately, but Thomas didn’t want to tell him that, so he simply nodded and returned back to the classroom.

***

When Minho disappeared to the doctor after one lesson, Thomas fought a dilemma. With no barrier between him and Newt, there was a possibility to engage in a conversation, but he didn’t know what the cost would be. If Newt was annoyed already, just adding oil to the fire would come bite him in the ass. But then again it _was_ a chance, right?

It still took him about another fifteen minutes before he grew bold enough and changed seats, filling Minho’s spot like a thief. First he handed the peace offering and when Newt glanced at him in a silent question, he shrugged.

“Thought you might be hungry?” he tried under the unhappy stare.

 _This is not going to work_ , he realized grimly and waited for an inevitable push.

“You got me breakfast?” Newt asked instead and his voice thankfully sounded almost free of any annoyance that otherwise radiated from his body.

“Yep,” Thomas agreed firmly.

“Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it.”

Newt peeked into the bag and when he pulled one of the snacks and didn’t make a face at it, Thomas counted it as a win. Too bad the score so far didn’t look very promising.

“Did something happen?” he asked carefully when Newt started munching on the food. “You seem to be in bad mood.”

The blond stiffened momentarily, and then cleared his throat.

“Nothing,” he responded while shaking his head. “Just slept badly. I guess.”

“Oh, okay,” Thomas let out and forced down the question about the messages. Hell, if Newt decided not to text him, who was he to demand it? This _truce_ was fairly new, he didn’t want to ruin it while being persistent like a naggy wife.

The silence stretched between them and Thomas refused to acknowledge a defeat, even though it was pretty much apparent Newt wasn’t in the mood for talking. He focused mainly on the food and Thomas contemplated to sit back on his own spot, give him some breathing space, but couldn’t bring himself to move.

“How do you feel about Tim Burton?” he inquired, because nothing less stupid came to his mind at that point, and Newt shrugged.

“Don’t mind his movies,” he answered without any bad bite in it. “Why?”

“Another movie night,” Thomas explained with a shrug. “Minho said he’s going to strap you to the chair so you’d attend.”

“Lovely,” Newt groaned. “There was a reason why I didn’t go this movie night though. I dunno why he keeps dragging me there.”

Thomas felt his throat tighten at that notion. He said there was no real reason before, didn’t he? That he just didn’t feel like it. So there was in the end? Was it…

“Me?” It flew out of Thomas mouth without a break and Newt blinked in confusion.

“What?”

“Am I the reason you didn’t go?” he shot out the question and mentally cringed at his voice dropping into an unhappy note. He didn’t mean to sound accusing or anything, nor did he want to push an opinion into Newt’s throat like this (because he really, really prayed it wasn’t the case).

Newt stared at him mutely for several long seconds and then let out a sigh.

“No, you weren’t the reason I didn’t go, get over yourself,” he responded and the known bite was back, although not as strong. It made Thomas a little relieved, but at the same time tense because the level of annoyance apparently rose up. “I didn’t go because I didn’t want to spend the whole Saturday staring at TV, with movies I’ve already seen. Is all.”

“Okay,” Thomas piped, defeated, and slinked back into his own seat.

_Time to lay low again._

***

“Jesus, what happened _now_?”

Thomas shot Minho an apologetic smile but didn’t say anything, neither did Newt. There was an ominous aura around the blond, like he was ready to murder somebody, and Thomas didn’t even try to pretend it wasn’t his fault. Because it definitely had been, somehow, even though he didn’t really say as much.

“You fought again?” Minho asked him in a low voice once he sat down and put his bandaged arm on the desk.

“I’m not entirely sure we did,” Thomas replied in the same quiet tone. It wasn’t a fight per se, but it definitely put Newt in a worse state than he had been in since the morning. “Sorry. Will keep low from now on.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Minho mumbled and Thomas was kind of glad the lesson started and cut away any other conversation.

***

It went like this for the whole week and Thomas kept away as much as he could. There was no reason explained for Newt being so weirdly quiet and cold, and there was no attempt to engage in a conversation either. Thomas had to hold back almost by the power of his sheer will on Friday _not_ to try to talk to the blond when Minho skipped class and left them alone with an empty gap between them.

The silence was suffocating though. Hell, everything about this was – there were no texts, no talking, Newt barely even looked at him (or anybody else, really). The only thing that made Thomas not to jump out of his skin already was the fact Newt wasn’t fighting with him, or glaring or muttering or seemingly hating him again, and Thomas found solace in it. It was more like Newt had been angry at the world as a whole, although Thomas had been a part of it, but at least he hadn’t been the only inevitable target.

He contemplated saying at least something when the last lesson ended and they started to pack but there was simply nothing to ensure a positive reaction, not even _have a nice weekend_ (or God forbid a question for the movie night). So he bit his tongue and left the class without a word, because Newt looked like a timed bomb ready to explode.

He managed to walk towards the main entrance when his phone buzzed with a message. He swiped it open while going through the door and then stopped like somebody froze him with liquid nitrogen. Several more students crashed into him that he almost dropped the phone, but he only got few glares before they continued on their way, leaving him gaping at the text with wide eyes.

**Newt – 17:12 – Come back. That bloody avoiding shit is getting out of hand.**

_What the…?_

He looked back into the hallway and hesitated. What was Newt playing at now? What exactly did he even want from Thomas? The whole week was like he sat into the wasp nest, ignoring everybody, and now he complained about being avoided? Even Minho wasn’t trying to push him into anything, because Newt simply looked like capable of murder.

He sighed, read it one more time and then returned to the building like a dog. He didn’t like the fact he came up running, but he also didn’t want Newt to think he was avoiding because of some stupid reason that didn’t even exist, no matter what was it about.

When he got back into the empty classroom, he noticed Newt standing at their desks right away. He looked ruffled and uneasy and Thomas wasn’t entirely sure if he was really up to hear what he wanted to say. Because he definitely called him here for a reason, whatever it could be, and judging from his face it wasn’t pleasant.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Thomas announced right from the door.

“Well, it bloody feels like you do,” Newt uttered back and it sounded a little hurt and Thomas felt panic swelling in his throat.

“You looked like you want to murder somebody the whole week,” he tried not to sound too defensive and Newt snorted.

“Yeah, you,” he grumbled unhappily and Thomas frowned. “And me kind of as well.”

“If you’re trying to make the situation better, I must tell you that you’re kinda failing so far,” Thomas pointed out and crossed his arms on his chest. “Again – I wasn’t avoiding you, but I didn’t want you to snap at me either, so I held back. You didn’t talk to anybody, you know. So we left you be.”

“Yeah, well, don’t do that,” the blond mumbled.

_Fine, that’s confusing as hell._

“You didn’t even answer the text on Saturday,” Thomas pointed out childishly. “And you normally text from time to time, but you didn’t. I thought you simply wanted space.”

“I did not.”

“I’m not a mind reader, how should I have known-,”

“I did not!” This time Newt’s voice echoed through the classroom loudly and Thomas shut up. “I just had… a hard time adjusting. Is all.”

“To what?” Thomas tilted his head to the side, staring at the lithe form of the blond, wondering if he should have risked to come closer, or if there was more coming where the distance would work better.

“You.”

“Oh,” he let out a little dumbfounded. His head got filled with about thousands of possible explanations of what Newt meant by that, but he wasn’t bold enough to voice any of them. “Well… how did that end up?”

“I dunno,” the blond admitted, looking a little lost. “Dealing with the fact I suddenly don’t hate your guts is a bit overwhelming.”

“Miracles happen,” Thomas shrugged, although _hating his guts_ was a rather strong one, and approached Newt in a slow pace. He always thought Newt wasn’t shy to say what he wanted or what he thought, but seeing him now he wasn’t entirely sure. There _was_ something about him, but he couldn’t point a finger on it.

He stopped at the edge of his desk, just an arm-length from his classmate, and Newt returned his gaze, like he was analysing him.

“What are you thinking?” he asked in a quiet voice, almost curiously, and Thomas knew he couldn’t really tell the truth. Like this, standing in silence, up close and just two of them, he thought that Newt was the most insufferable, confusing, beautiful human he ever met. That his eyes were so dark he could drown in them. That his mouth was kissable, his neck a perfect place where to mark him, his legs a perfect weight fitting around Thomas’ hips…

_Yeah, not telling him that, thank you, hormones._

“That you’re probably a little insane,” he answered instead, giving it a lighter note, but Newt still watched him like he expected to hear more.

“I mean what are you _really_ thinking,” he elaborated. “Right now.”

“Indecent things,” he said, because hey, it was the truth, although probably not the best to be revealed to this guy.

“What things?”

“That you’re usually not this meek,” Thomas pointed out. “Is this a part when you suddenly stab me in the stomach or something?”

“I forgot my knives’ set at home, sorry to disappoint,” Newt offered. “Not to mention you thinking I’m meek is not indecent.”

“It is.”

“I’d expect something more explicit,” Newt said.

“That stabbing part wasn’t explicit enough?”

“No, not really,” the blond shrugged. “I thought you’d say something like… thinking about a handjob or that porn you wanted to watch but couldn’t because you live with two witches that spy on you…”

“Whoa there, cowboy!” Thomas took a step back and looked Newt over with faked shock. “Have you been reading my mind?!”

“I think you already know I appreciate honesty,” Newt opposed lightly. “So again. What are you thinking about?”

“About doing indecent things,” Thomas repeated with a little more seriousness and Newt nodded like he acknowledged it.

“To whom?” another question, and the eyes were unblinking and dark and Thomas had no strength left.

“To you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!


	11. Make Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just want to point out that you called me here and asked, just so we are clear for the future references,” Thomas commented and Newt made a face at him. “What? You tend to twist these things.”  
> “I tend to twist these things?” Newt raised an eyebrow. “Are you picking a fight?”  
> “Not really,” Thomas shrugged and Newt could see the badly hidden smirk that he was trying to supress. “I’m just not used to you being so calm.”  
> “What, you prefer me shouting at you? Are you a masochist?”

Newt liked to have an upper hand if he could help it. He preferred to be in control because that way he could change the pace as he wanted it or the course of actions taken.

Right now he had no idea what the hell control was. At one point he was leading the whole thing, getting Thomas where he wanted him, and suddenly there was _nothing_. Just white noise washing over him while he stared at the brunet with a serious case of an approaching heart-attack, and no idea how to stop it.

Yes, he did want to get Thomas to say something – something that would indicate how exactly he felt about this – or about Newt – but he didn’t expect him to be so bloody blunt. Hell, he didn’t expect anything exactly positive in the matter, not with all the ignoring for this whole week and all (because it was mean and Newt couldn’t stop being bitter about it, no matter how logical Thomas’ explanation sounded).

_Doing indecent things to him._

Just… _for real_? Thomas? To him?

“Um,” Thomas voiced out. “I take it that this wasn’t exactly what you’ve wanted to hear?”

“No, it is exactly what I’ve wanted to hear,” Newt blurted out, his heartbeat almost deafening. He planned this – he was sure if he would really go for Thomas, he would have to make some effort so the brunet would actually fall for him, with some clever tactics and maybe few sacrifices, but this? Thomas completely destroyed that plan, and kicked Newt off the high horse without breaking a sweat.

Hell, he didn’t even look embarrassed when he admitted it! Just like _yeah, I thought of doing things to you, like maybe sex or at least a blowjob, no biggie, eh?_ And Newt was there completely dumbfounded, because he thought Thomas would be different in this – fidgety – hey, maybe even with a bit stuttering thrown in? Not like a girl with frilly laces, but at least a little _cute_ , so Newt could keep the upper hand.

But nope. There he was, a beacon of manliness or whatever, not even a little nervous about telling Newt he wanted to bang him with completely straight face and Newt felt like the one who wanted to fidget and maybe hide for a while.

“Oh,” Thomas reacted. “Cool?”

 _Cool?_ _Come on!_

“Is this why you have been so moody during the week?” Thomas asked the worst question ever and Newt forced down a groan. He couldn’t possibly admit that he was having a crisis about liking a guy he couldn’t stand for half a year, could he? And a guy who decided to ignore him that same week like he didn’t even exist. The more he distanced, the more grouchy Newt had become, and when he left today without saying a stupid bye, Newt simply snapped.

“Adjusting to me like-,”

“No, stop talking,” Newt’s hands shot up and covered Thomas’ mouth in panic. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! He should have lead this, he shouldn’t have been the one frustrated, for fuck’s sake. Didn’t Thomas get the bloody memo?

The brunet rolled his eyes, but didn’t attempt to do anything else and when Newt was sure he would keep quiet, he let go awkwardly and cleared his throat. They got close to each other – too close maybe, and Newt realized it was him who stepped into Thomas’ personal space in the first place. He took a step back but Thomas caught him by the fabric of his shirt and kept him at place. It wasn’t forceful or anything, more like if he said _wait please_ without words, and Newt complied with hitched breath and didn’t retreat any further.

“What are you thinking about?” Thomas asked in a low voice and Newt didn’t know.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “My mind is blank.”

“That’s good or bad?”

“It’s _weird_.”

“Just want to point out that _you_ called me here and asked, just so we are clear for the future references,” Thomas commented and Newt made a face at him. “What? You tend to twist these things.”

“I tend to twist these things?” Newt raised an eyebrow. “Are you picking a fight?”

“Not really,” Thomas shrugged and Newt could see the badly hidden smirk that he was trying to supress. “I’m just not used to you being so calm.”

“What, you prefer me shouting at you? Are you a masochist?”

Fine, it was true that they didn’t have many quiet moments and usually quarrelled, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be nice to him either.

“Ah, that’s a good question,” Thomas scratched the back of his neck. “Sometimes I thought I must be…”

“Let’s leave the skeletons in the wardrobe, shall we?” Newt stopped him with a sigh and was glad for the intervention, because his inner equilibrium could recharge again. Maybe Thomas did it on purpose?

“So what are you going to do with that knowledge?” the brunet asked almost curiously. They were still standing close to each other and Newt realized that if he only took one tiny step closer, he would be flat against him, chest to chest. Or if he just leaned forward a little, they would be kissing without neither of them straining their neck, since they were almost the same height.

“Aren’t _you_ the one who has indecent thoughts about me?” he replied and noticed how Thomas’ eyes skimmed down to Newt’s lips and then back up to his eyes. He seemed a little conflicted and Newt wasn’t sure what he alone waited for. Maybe he just needed Thomas to make a first step? Since all the careful planning proved to be now useless, they basically skipped the _wooing_ , as Sonya would say, when Thomas already entered the next stage (probably, hopefully).

“Am I the only one?” Thomas asked back and Newt felt his stomach flipping around again, jolting in his body in a weird kind of excitement.

“I don’t have indecent thoughts about myself,” he said to catch his breath, because Thomas was trying to lead again and Newt refused to let him have that power. He had no idea what Thomas was capable of while controlling the pace, and that scared him a little.

“Go take a look in a mirror, it may help,” his classmate shot back and Newt almost choked. Seriously, this changed everything and he wasn’t sure what was acceptable now between them. He wasn’t used to compliments like that – not from Thomas, that for sure. They weren’t cheesy, sure, but still palpable.

“You’re not the only one,” he squeezed out from himself. It was a fight to admit it to himself, and now saying it out loud made him almost break a cold sweat, but he didn’t need to be stubborn about something as trivial as liking somebody. It was not a rocket science, Thomas hadn’t been a pain to look at, and if Newt forgot about their battles at the beginning, he was actually amusing as well.

“Does it mean you’re going to be nicer to me from now on?” Thomas tilted his head to the side like a cat and Newt snorted and pushed into him.

“Make me.”

In retrospect it probably wasn’t the wisest decision of what to say in public to a guy whose eyes darkened immediately, but that realization came too late for Newt to stop it anyway, because Thomas was already pushing him against the desk while reaching for his face to cradle it in his hands. There was a knee immediately pressing between Newt’s legs to make more space and Newt almost forgot to breathe over the change of atmosphere. He felt the blood rising to his face in a tidal wave and his hands scrambled for leverage when Thomas almost topped him over the table with an unexpected intensity.

“Just so we’re clear-,” Thomas started, holding him in place and Newt groaned.

“Jesus, are you seriously still _talking_?”

“Nope,” Thomas retorted and Newt could probably get at least bit of a warning before Thomas decided to dive in to steal all the breath from Newt’s lungs with an overwhelming kiss. It wasn’t like Newt expected Thomas to be bad at this – he kind of hoped he would be at least a little skilled since he already dated somebody before – but this was bloody ridiculous. Not only he kissed him with tongue right from the first hello, sweeping over his lower lip and demanding entrance, but his goddamn knee pressed forward and Newt couldn’t help but gasp into the kiss. It was messy and insisting and probably impatient as well, because Thomas didn’t relent even for a second, and pushed more and more into Newt’s frame. His lips were surprisingly soft thought and Newt heard himself making small noises under him that probably should have embarrassed him.  

He must have been so naïve before. Leading something with Thomas? Bloody impossible!

***

**Thomas – 23:14 – What, you said no pleasantries and no mushiness, so at least come to the movie night, you chicken :P**

Newt groaned and for a minute screamed into his pillow just to get out some frustration. The kiss (or the kissing in overall, because it wasn’t just _one_ kiss, it was many of them, all messy) started about everything Newt didn’t want it to – especially Thomas’ apparent dominance. Suddenly he wasn’t so timid anymore (if he had ever been, really) and Newt realized too late that if he wanted to have a word in this, he had to fight for it. That was also a reason why he pushed Thomas back when his hands started to wander a bit (because hey, seriously? They were in school, the door to the classroom were opened and anybody could have walked in, and Thomas wanted to get Newt out of his clothes?!), and told him to _hold his horses_. Because seriously, even when they got into an understanding they weren’t against each other anymore (at least physically not, Newt was starting to reconsider), it didn’t mean they needed to push it so damn much the first moment they could.

So the text about movie night was like: _fine, can’t get you alone, so I’ll harass you while everybody is going to watch._ Newt simply didn’t believe him he was going to behave, not after today.

**Newt – 23:17 – So you can molest me there? Think again.**

**Thomas – 23:21 – I’d never :o**

“I’ve seen your _never_ ,” he grumbled and just out of spite checked the hickey Thomas left him as a parting gift in the camera. No idiot would consider this a bug bite, and Thomas wanted him to put it on display in front of everybody tomorrow? He must have been mad.

**Newt – 23:24 – I have a hickey of the size of Texas. Stuff your “never” wherever you want!**

**Thomas – 23:28 - :D :D :D**

**Thomas – 23:29 – I had to mark you :P That’s what dogs do, you know.**

**Newt – 23:34 – Thank god you haven’t peed on me then…**

He knew Thomas wouldn’t let the _dog_ reference go, because he loved making Newt’s life miserable. Calling him _a dog in heat_ was clearly a mistake.

**Thomas – 23:40 – You’re welcome :P**

**Thomas – 23:41 – Come on, come with me, please? I swear I won’t do anything… much.**

**Newt – 23:44 – You lay finger on me in front of them and you won’t be able to touch me with anything next time >:(**

**Thomas – 23:47 - :D Mmmkay, deal. Although a pretty rough one, just so you know.**

Newt shook his head and tossed his phone next to him on the bed, refusing to text him back. This was not how he expected it to go. Hell, this was not how he expected Thomas to be like at all. It was like he took off his leash and Thomas got wild for how much his attitude towards Newt changed.

He needed to show him some borders next time, that for sure, he decided. Or he would definitely get eaten by a big bad wolf.

***

**Newt – 23:58 – You learn to heel, and we will get along :P See you tomorrow. Good night.**

_Fuck, I’m weak._

**Thomas – 00:00 – Night, Mewt** **~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> This chapter should be named: Newt and What The Fuck Have I Done?!


	12. The Witches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for how excited he became).  
> “Dude,” Minho immediately spotted the mark. “Bragging, aren’t ya?”  
> “With a leech? No, not really,” Newt uttered and Thomas could feel the huge, neon sign of LEECH stabbing him in the middle of his chest and then falling over him like tons of bricks.   
> “Do I even want to know?” Minho sighed and Newt only smirked and stole a bottle of soda from him while sitting down on the far side of the couch.   
> “Do I?” Minho glanced at Thomas in a question and Thomas decided to shake his head and act like he was too busy with sorting the bowls on the coffee table. “Jesus.”

“Make me."

 Thomas wasn’t afraid to say that it was the moment his last ounce of self-control crumbled in a heap of unimportant trash. He shoved the infuriating boy against the wall _hard_ , probably knocking the air out of him, and immediately followed, latching his mouth on his neck and sucking, biting, marking this unimaginable being that could make him so angry too easily.

The anger wasn’t enough now though, it was just a tiny, almost invisible piece of everything that coursed through his body. There was hunger now; need and desire, and he just wanted to own this person, to possess him, to make him obsessed with him. He wanted him to beg, and make him want, and just once at least hear something nice, something positive, something meant well and honest.

And if it meant to play it rough now, to show he was not fooling around, but he really wanted it, so be it. If it could have been done only by breaking the shell, tearing apart the walls that kept them apart, he was ready to invest everything in it.

He wondered if Newt was aware. If he knew he was in danger now, that this was the last jab he ever made for Thomas to tolerate, if he really understood what he unleased with those two simple words.

 _Make me_.

Because Thomas was more than ready, he was basically striving for it, he needed the contact, and he refused to let the blond go again, ever again. So he pushed him stronger against the wall and bit deeper, and then kissed the air out of his pretty mouth, and repeated it as long as it was needed for Newt to gasp and writhe and beg him for more.

With his eyes darkened and lips red and swollen, and moans filling the air, all the pleas were the best thing Thomas had ever heard, and he touched him more, pressed him against the wall stronger, and earned even more primal noises, pushing into him, thrusting in earnest, and Newt kept on repeating his name, breathing out curses and held on as if his life depended on it. And here it was the amazing feeling of connection, the warmth and shared pleasure, and Thomas couldn’t stop himself from kissing him more and wanting him forever, and it Newt wanted him too and he whispered into his ear sweet nothings, then bit his ear and said-

“Wake up you lazy ass, it’s your turn to take us to breakfast!”

Thomas jerked awake, almost falling off the bed, and earned honest laugh from Teresa, who was standing in his room fully clothed and with her arms crossed. There was light coming through the sunblind and clock showed something past eight and for a moment he had zero idea what day it was and where he had been.

“Now that’s some nice wake up call, eh?” she smirked at him smugly and threw his jeans at him. “Get dressed. Brenda is already eating furniture from the hunger.”

_Oh. Home. Unfortunately._

Thomas didn’t have any strength to tell her something nasty and just stared at her as if he saw her for the first time in his life. It was like a truck hit him, his body still not quite getting the current situation, and Teresa gave him a curious look.

“You were trashing like crazy by the way. You are welcome,” she noted. “Since I woke you up from a nightmare.”

“You’re a nightmare,” he growled and that finally made her leave. Even though laughing like crazy while closing the door and immediately saying something to Brenda (he didn’t really catch what, nor did he care, but it was definitely something like _mission accomplished_ ).

He remained in the bed for a while longer, thrumming with weird kind of energy, and the dream slowly faded from his memory like somebody took an eraser and started cleaning all specific scenes, no matter how hard Thomas tried to memorize it.

Well, it was no wonder his brain decided to pull something like this off after what happened yesterday. Although it was true the dream made it… hotter. Maybe crazily so – there was no way Newt would let him do that all at once in a near future, as Thomas had seen it. Maybe he didn’t even expect Thomas to kiss him at school either, which added spice to it, and although he got scolded after for marking him _like a dog in heat_ , Thomas was pretty sure Newt wasn’t completely opposed to it (well, more like at all, which Thomas was still processing as a miracle).

He tossed on his side and blindly reached for his phone, quickly checking e-mails and then opened a new message with a lazy smile.

**Thomas – 8:14 – Morning Mewt ~. Ready for today?**

Yeah, sure, Newt did say _no mushiness_ and all, but Thomas couldn’t help himself. Were they dating? He didn’t even know if yesterday meant they actually progressed into a relationship, or if Newt just simply wanted to know how they stood before deciding the next course of action. He didn’t seem like a romantic person, nor somebody who wanted to be held down by somebody, taking his freedom. Not that friends with benefits was a bad thing, but Thomas actually wanted something a little more meaningful, even if it made him cheesy as hell.

Sure, Thomas didn’t even know _how_ to date a guy – not to mention Newt who was able to throw a table at him in bad mood. Pompous romantic gestures seemed unfitting and maybe also a little dangerous if Newt was the receiver.

Maybe this was it? Since Thomas didn’t see much of a difference than they already had – with the banter already in motion, but with added closeness and some nice, together time where they didn’t need to sit apart like strangers, but at least touch a little. That would be a nice, slow beginning, yeah? Touching, kissing. Some quality time spent together without arguing (or maybe with little arguing, sometimes it was seriously amusing when they weren’t really meaning it).

“Thomas! Come oooooooon!”

He groaned at Brenda’s voice coming from behind the door and forced himself to sit up. Sometimes he hated sharing the flat with _the witches_ who ganged up on him whenever they had a chance.

***

“Are you and Minho dating or something? You’re at his place every Saturday.”

Thomas rolled his eyes at Brenda and pushed his phone away. No reply from Newt so far and he was getting restless (even though he knew expecting Newt to answer right away never really worked out – he only didn’t know if Newt was doing it on purpose to create some suspense or if he simple didn’t check his phone so often like Thomas did).

“Well, that would be an orgy then, since there is like… ten guys at least. We watch movies,” he uttered, nibbling his omelette without appetite. “But think whatever you like.”

“Don’t be so touchy,” she made a face but at least stopped paying him attention, and Teresa sent him a frown.

“Why are you in such a bad mood?” she stared at him suspiciously and Thomas snorted.

“Don’t remember how you woke me up?” he pointed out unhappily. And from such a nice dream too! He really needed to work harder to have Newt a little more open to him – he didn’t want another war.

“Because we were hungry and you slept in,” Teresa opposed with a careless shrug. “Seriously, what’s bugging you?”

“Nothing is-,” A bleep interrupted him and when he saw the text that started with Newt’s name, he completely forgot what he wanted to say and just blurted out _nevermind_.

**Newt – 9:22 – Jesus, why were you up so early…? ;;**

“There you are,” he mumbled with a smirk while typing the answer. He really thought Newt decided to ignore him after yesterday (and the more he did, the more he thought he seriously slipped with control that day and regretted it).

**Thomas – 9:25 – I’d sleep much longer, but the witches dragged me to buy them breakfast :(**

“The witches?” Teresa announced with a deadly voice, seemingly reading what he wrote. “Do you have a death wish?”

“Um.” He hid his phone into his pocket and stood up. “Gotta go, I guess?”

“You’re so dead,” she glared at him, but Thomas was already on his way out, laughing like a maniac while reading Newt’s text with delight.

**Newt – 9:26 – Next time just get them a cauldron and few frogs, pretend it’s how French do it.**

He laughed all the way home.

***

“No way, you made him to come?”

Thomas almost choked on his drink when Minho said that, before his brain interpreted it as it should have, and not in a literal, dirty sense (that hadn’t happened yet anyway, but Thomas was working on it alright). He arrived to his house almost as the first visitor to help with preparations and Minho apparently reconciled with the fact Newt would be skipping these sessions to infinity, until he heard otherwise.

“Well, it was a hard work,” Thomas cleared his throat and rather put the drink on the kitchen desk, so he wouldn’t be in danger anymore. “He didn’t want to go at first.”

“I’m just wondering, because he was still weird on Friday,” Minho pointed out while filling a prepared bowl with popcorn and crumpled the bag. “And you said you’re going to keep low.”

“Yeah, well,” Thomas took out another bowl and Minho started filling it as well, this time with chips. “Guess he minded nobody talked to him, so… It’s fine now.”

He couldn’t possibly tell him Newt was all moody because he was apparently tried to come in terms with his sudden attraction to Thomas, after more than half a year of antipathy. Thomas kind of understood that, although Newt tried to make it sound like it wasn’t much of a big deal.

But it probably kind of was – at least for Thomas, since he never expected Newt to actually like him back anyhow, no matter what he did. So when this came out, a huge boulder of uncertainty fell from Thomas’ shoulders and suddenly it made all sense to him – Newt’s reactions and everything these past few days (well, weeks even!), and the moodiness and demanding texts.

“Sometimes I think that guy has some serious issues,” Minho shook his head in exasperation and motioned to Thomas to help him carry everything to the living room.

Thomas couldn’t wait for Newt to arrive he almost dropped the bowl when the doorbell rang.

***

Newt appeared between one of the latest visitors and didn’t even _try_ to hide the hickey Thomas left on him the day before, no matter how much bitching he did around it. Thomas found it kind of hot, because it was _him_ who marked him like that, _him_ who put it there like a brand, and Newt could have hidden it with a turtleneck shirt or something, but he did not.

As a greeting he made a face at Thomas, like he was still mad, but then walked towards him and Minho at the couch to engage in a rather normal conversation, and Thomas was almost sure the brush of his hand against his hip was on purpose (or he was already imagining things that weren’t there for how excited he became).

“Dude,” Minho immediately spotted the mark. “Bragging, aren’t ya?”

“With a leech? No, not really,” Newt uttered and Thomas could feel the huge, neon sign of LEECH stabbing him in the middle of his chest and then falling over him like tons of bricks.

“Do I even want to know?” Minho sighed and Newt only smirked and stole a bottle of soda from him while sitting down on the far side of the couch.

“Do I?” Minho glanced at Thomas in a question and Thomas decided to shake his head and act like he was too busy with sorting the bowls on the coffee table. “Jesus.”

Thomas was actually glad when the first movie started, and even more when he actually managed to sit next to Newt without much of an effort.

Only five minutes into the movie he realized it was a cardinal mistake, if he meant to keep his hands for himself with his walking wet dream sitting next to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> No, Minho, you don't want to know ^^'


	13. Genius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seriously, Newt, pull yourself together,” Minho sighed, watching him from his side of the couch while playing with the remote. “Your mood swings are getting out of hand and I’m telling you this as a friend – it’s getting pretty tiresome, okay? It gotta be tiresome even for you, dude.”  
> “Geez, thanks Dr. Freud,” Newt spitted out. What was he even still doing here?

“I’m trying, don’t be so mean.”

Newt snorted but didn’t say anything, not even when Thomas looked seriously frustrated at the kitchen counter, like he was fighting with himself. He surprisingly behaved until this moment, maybe even too much like it didn’t bother him being this close without at least something, and yeah, Newt probably really was mean for cornering him here like a prey.

“I’m not saying you do not,” he assured him with a smirk and noticed how Thomas’ hands twitched at his sides. It was pretty much obvious he didn’t like being cut off, and Newt thought he wouldn’t be able to stay that way, so he came to Minho’s place with an initiate knowledge of Thomas blowing it off maybe in the first hour into the first movie.

But nope, there was about the half of the second one (Corpse Bride so far) and Thomas stubbornly kept his hands to himself, even though nobody would probably notice them if they somewhat touched, with Newt sitting in the couch’s corner.

Which was ridiculous, because Newt was kind of mad yesterday and wanted to point out Thomas proved his suspicion and that was why he didn’t want to come here to be molested, but _nothing_ happened.

“Are you trying to make me snap?” Thomas sounded a little accusing and Newt had to admit standing so close to him could have been considered a low blow. But as much as Newt wanted to play hard to get, he didn’t expect Thomas beating him to it, and that kind of fuelled his unreasonable logic.

“No?” he answered and it was a lie, he knew that. And Thomas must have too, since his eyes narrowed when Newt picked on his shirt like he was just playing with it. He seemed tense and ready to bolt and Newt didn’t know why was he trying to make it happen when ten other guys could have hear them from the living room, or any of them could walk into the kitchen any given moment.

When no reaction came, Newt pressed a hand against his side and spread his fingers over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of Thomas’ body seeping into him through the place. His skin must have been even warmer, he thought, and kind of wondered how big of a risk would it be if he slid his hand under the shirt to check.

“Then you’re testing me,” Thomas’ voice was close and low and Newt realized he stepped into his personal space again, like drawn by some invisible power.

“Maybe,” he replied, because he couldn’t tell him he was actually expecting Thomas to be this way, pushing a little, demanding – not Newt – and when it didn’t happen, it made Newt want to fill the role instead.

Sure, he did call Thomas a dog in heat, but judging from his own actions now he wasn’t that much different.

“So mean,” Thomas mumbled unhappily and Newt chuckled, while dragging his hand higher, from the waist to the centre of Thomas’ chest. He could feel his heartbeat under his fingers, thrumming steadily and wondered what kind of gesture would quicken it enough to match his own. He looked so calm, despite what he was saying and that was driving Newt crazy. He wanted to see him crumble a little, show weakness, so it wasn’t only Newt doing unreasonable things with no logic whatsoever, just because his body decided to get all hot and bothered in close vicinity. Wasn’t Thomas the same?

“You know, if you’re trying to find a reason why not to hang out together, you can just say so,” Thomas uttered and Newt stopped mid move, his hand uselessly hanging in the air from the unexpected turn of events.

_What?_

“What are you talking about?” he stared into the dark pits of Thomas’ eyes in confusion - and really, when did Thomas’ expression got so annoyed?

“I promised you I won’t do anything,” the brunet said little roughly. “So if you’re trying to make me snap and give you a reason why to push me away, just say so. We don’t need to suffer in each other’s presence, you know.”

_Suffer?_

“Can’t you read the mood, genius?” Newt hissed and let his hand fall back. Suffer in each other’s presence, what kind of bullshit was that? Did he think Newt just wanted to make him do something so he could victoriously laugh with _I told you so_ and leave him to it? _Geez._ “I’m not trying to backstab you, for fuck’s sake.”

Thomas’ expression didn’t really change and Newt couldn’t help but roll his eyes. _Perfect_. They weren’t even dating or anything and there was already a problem in miscommunication Newt was too proud to correct, and Thomas apparently too dumb to find out.

“You know what, forget it,” he waved his hand and snatched the first sack of popcorn he saw lying on the counter. When Thomas didn’t even try to stop him, he had to admit he felt a little piqued and maybe sat down the couch back in the living room a little too dramatically, since other boys glared at him for a moment.

He almost flipped them off.

***

He didn’t pay attention to the movies _at all._ Thomas was sitting next to him like a sack of potatoes and acted like nothing happened – he laughed with others, he commented the movie with them (Sleepy Hollow) and he paid no attention to Newt whatsoever. His eyes were either fixated on the screen or on the rest of the cavalry, avoiding Newt’s presence with precise rudeness, and the more time passed, the grouchier it made him.

Seriously, what was so difficult on understanding the bloody hints Newt kept on dropping? Like doing all the cornering and touching in the kitchen should have meant he was trying to make Thomas do something unreasonable, so he could laugh – Jesus, to what point? It would still be _him_ who started it, who pushed him to the corner, who tried to make him snap.

_For somebody who’s already dated he sure is dumb though._

He slid lower on the couch, almost lying on it, and unhappily stared at the screen without actually watching it – the images kept on rushing before his eyes, the replicas he already knew filling his ears, and the itch to pull Thomas’ arm like a needy child grew stubbornly stronger. He came in terms they skipped the _wooing_ part, that they simply both wanted to that extend, but now it got stuck on a dead end like a time loop, repeating itself over and over.

He expected overbearing and obvious gestures and maybe some handsy situations, sure. He kind of wanted to fight against it as well, since they weren’t exactly official or lovey dovey, but when nothing came, the simple fact of Newt _minding_ it felt like a hit to the gut.  

“Is there a forecast for you two or do I have to suffer of randomness every time I see you in one room?” Minho asked him with an unhappy look when all the boys ran away through the flat, to the kitchen or toilet, and only him and Minho remained.

“Don’t look at me,” Newt uttered icily. The clock showed half past nine in the evening and Newt had no damn idea why he still stayed here, just to be overlooked and ignored and consumed by his own anger while barely watching movies he had already seen and that in current predicament bored him to death. “I can’t help he has a thick skull and zero common sense.”

“Guess he can’t help you’re such a drama queen either,” Minho pointed out mercilessly and Newt sent him a vicious glare. “Should I stop inviting you at the same time? Looks like it always ends in disaster.”

“Do whatever you want,” Newt grumbled, but the piqued, a little hurt feeling lingered. Minho always observed the best, and gave the realest advices when it came down to it. He had a great empathy going on sometimes, you definitely wouldn’t guess he had it in him from the first hello, and such a great skill helped Newt many times. But now, being used against him, it made his fingers itch and spread a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Seriously, Newt, pull yourself together,” Minho sighed, watching him from his side of the couch while playing with the remote. “Your mood swings are getting out of hand and I’m telling you this as a friend – it’s getting pretty tiresome, okay? It gotta be tiresome even for you, dude.”

“Geez, thanks Dr. Freud,” Newt spitted out. What was he even still doing here?

“Yeah, naturally,” Minho shook his head and even though he didn’t make any face or a purely negative gesture (more like exasperated one, which _fine_ ) and Newt seriously didn’t feel any antagonism from him, it simply killed the remaining will to stay.

***

**Thomas – 21:11 – You left??**

“Perfect deduction, Sherlock,” Newt uttered and hid his phone back into his pocket without a reply. He was tired, snappy and the ride by bus was getting too long. It smelled like cabbages inside of the cabin, probably from the guy sleeping in the back, and Newt just wanted to be home, take a bath and sleep this bloody day off.

His phone vibrated in his pocket again with another text and Newt grudgingly pulled it back out, opening it with a cringe.

**Thomas – 21:15 – Fine, keep a radio silence. But you could have at least said bye or somethin’.**

_What!_

**Newt – 21:16 – For what? So you could ignore me again?**

Right the moment he sent it he realized it was a fatal mistake and almost threw his phone against the floor just to escape any possible reaction. Why the hell was this guy making him act so bloody illogical all the time?!

**Thomas – 21:17 – I wasn’t ignoring you. You said “forget it” and looked like a bloodthirsty Chihuahua. Sorry for not wanting to get bitten.**

**Newt – 21:18 – Bloody idiot >:(**

**Thomas – 21:19 – You’re the one who said I shouldn’t dare laying a finger on you, ffs. Do you have a split personality?**

**Newt – 21:20 - Ugh, just forget it, seriously. Forget everything.**

He almost missed his stop while staring into the phone in a hope he could kill the other guy on the line, and got out just in time before the doors closed. Why did he even reply to the second text? It always led into an inevitable argument after, no matter if it was verbal or through texts.

His phone buzzed again and he wanted to ignore it, he really did, but his resolve crumbled few steps in front of his house’ door, and even though Thomas couldn’t hear his annoyed grunt, he still let out the noise and opened the text in a complete darkness.

**Thomas – 21: 22 - I’m coming to your house right now.**

“What!” he squeaked and re-read the message just in case his brain pulled nasty tricks on him – but no, the words remained with Thomas’ resolute decision to make his life a living hell in person.

**Newt – 21:27 – No! Don’t you bloody dare to come here, ffs!**

**Thomas – 21:28 – Too late, already on my way.**

**Newt – 21:29 – It was just few minutes, you’re so not on your way already >.>**

**Thomas – 21:31 – I’ve been on my way for like… 20 minutes, since you left. Genius.**

“Shit.”

His legs basically rooted him to the spot, instead of running to hide, he stood there like an idiot as if he could avert the catastrophe that was approaching in a lightning speed (because twenty minutes?! That was basically almost there already, give or take another ten if Thomas was really slow or really fast). Since when Thomas even knew where he lived? Did Minho tell him? Or was he on his way here as well? Like a damn revenge squad, since they were bloody besties now?

“Shit, shit, shit,” he repeated with raising frequency and his hands refused to cooperate in a refusing reply. He stared at Thomas’ text like he could make it disappear by it, but it shined into the darkness with eerie clarity and Newt had no idea why it made him so damn _nervous_.

It wasn’t like Thomas had power over him or guts to get physical and beat him up (Newt wasn’t sure why he kept on thinking that, it wasn’t like Thomas ever hurt him or threatened him to do it, yet it always popped up in his mind like one of the possibilities for the situation, because Newt was aware he kept on pushing his buttons dangerously). But the sole image of him appearing here out of nowhere and demanding to talk it out eye to eye was simply too much to handle right now.

_Can we have a normal conversation at least once…? Probably not._

“Judging from what kind of face you’re making, I’d say you expect me to hit you over your head or something.”

Newt stiffened when the voice came and his eyes immediately found Thomas approaching the house in a leisure pace, hands in pockets of his jacket, a white, puffy cloud coming from his mouth every time he exhaled, and Newt took an involuntary step back. He was glad when Thomas stopped fairly far from him, like he was taking precaution, and still couldn’t believe he decided to come here so damn late in the evening – and after a fight (or whatever it was).

“So,” Thomas stared at him from under the street lamp and it made him look rather dark there, almost scary. “Shall we talk?”

_Shit, shit, shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Sorry for the delay! Busy busy busy ~


	14. Skippy moods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?” Newt stared at him again, eyes wide and little disbelieving. “You think I want to fight all the bloody time?”  
> “Yeah?” Thomas shrugged without hesitation. “All you do is… argue. Nag. Argue again. Geez, even your texts are full of don’t bother me tone.”  
> “I don’t mean it that way!”  
> Thomas snorted and shook his head again. Don’t mean it that way?

Thomas didn’t really expect Newt to be happy to see him there – hell, he was prepared to be yelled at over the phone at the best. But nope, the blond actually _waited_ for him outside of the house, which would be good, if his expression hadn’t been so damn terrified.

“There is nothing much to talk about,” he heard him saying, but the tone was flat, without a bite and Thomas decided to dismiss it. Newt was standing there and looked rather lost, his body not even tense, just fidgety, in his skinny jeans and long parka.

“For real?” Thomas cocked his head to the side, staring at the blond with a slight frown. “Cuz there is plenty. Why did you even leave?”

“I felt like leaving.”

“Why?”

No answer, although Thomas expected _bored_ or _ignored_ to fall from his lips. He got a shrug instead, a full body motion that simply didn’t convey enough – more like somebody pulled the strings on Newt’s body in a clumsy matter, making him look indecisive.

“You know everything I did today was what you asked me to?” he pointed out and crossed his arms on his chest, because he had no idea what to do with his hands. At the best he would simply reach out and pull the insufferable guy to his arms, but he didn’t know if he was allowed, or how he stood by now. Newt was probably as readable as a brick wall.

“You warned me not to do anything – so I didn’t. No idea what was your aim before, but seriously, if you have a manual for your skippy moods, then I’m in a dire need of it.”

“I don’t have skippy moods,” Newt opposed. Pretty lamely though.

“Yeah, sure,” Thomas uttered and wondered how weird would it be if he started recording these talks, because sometimes Newt’s speeches seriously conflicted with themselves without him even knowing. “I just want you to know I can’t read you. Like, at all. So when you tell me not to do anything and then get angry over it, it’s confusing as fuck.”

Newt fidgeted some more, but didn’t say anything, although his lips thinned a little.

“And then you get angry when I do what you’ve wanted, I mean, do you see the problem there?” Thomas took a step forward and was glad when Newt held his ground. He was almost at the door, so he would probably collide with them anyway, but at least he didn’t attempt to. “So either be blunt with me or you can’t really expect me to do what you secretly want, cuz I can’t read your mind.”

“I thought you wouldn’t listen.”

Thomas blinked at the speech dropped in between them and Newt avoided his eyes like a stubborn cat. Jesus, did he have issues with speaking up suddenly? He was always so damn straightforward that now it smelled like an alien abduction.

“When I told you not to do anything, I thought you wouldn’t care and do what you want anyway,” the blond added while staring at the ground.

“But why would I?” Thomas groaned at the logic and Newt shook his head as a response. “I mean, I promised I would not. Did you want me to break that deal?”

No answer. Not that he expected him to agree on it, but a hint would be nice.

“That thing you’re doing right now,” Thomas pointed at him unhappily. “ _That_ ’s the problem. Not saying a fucking thing. I don’t know what you’re thinking, you know. I seriously do not.”

“That makes us even,” Newt responded quietly and hid his hands in pockets of his jacket. No matter how hard Thomas stared at him, he didn’t elaborate.

“Newt.”

“I’m freezing over here,” the blond said sternly and Thomas had to admit the temperature dropped to a rather uncomfortable degree the later it got. But it didn’t mean he wanted the mostly one sided conversation to be over – he didn’t ride all the way here for lame excuses. As much as he liked the guy, if they ought to keep this up, he would rather drop it and suffer in silence for few months before getting over it in a different class. He could take only that much of crazy before snapping.

“We’re not done talking,” he said mercilessly and Newt finally raised his head and looked at him. His jaw was firmly set and eyes intense and Thomas expected about anything from him at that point.

“I got that,” the blond announced. “But I’m cold. Can we continue inside of the house?”

_Inside… oh._

He didn’t really wait for Thomas’ reaction, because he pulled out the keys and unlocked the front door in one swift motion. When he looked back at him with raised eyebrows, Thomas decided to follow him.

 

There was a faint sound of television coming from somewhere inside of the first floor and a distinct smell of something yummy, like chicken broth and exotic spices. Newt didn’t really stop on his way through the house though, he only quickly peeked into presumably a living room to say _hi_ (several female voices greeted him back, so Thomas thought there had to be at least sister and mum there) and then gestured for Thomas to follow him upstairs.

The place radiated warmth and cosiness and Thomas walked behind Newt with curiosity. He had never been here, and apart from the tenseness that now radiated from the blond’s back, he could actually feel a hint of change in the whole thing, like a tide turner.

Newt led him to his room, no doubt about it, since when they entered, Thomas could easily tell the place belonged to him. Everything screamed his name back at Thomas in loud voices – all from the colours setting to the sheets on his bed and posters on the walls. He didn’t comment on anything, but looked over everything appraisingly before Newt took down his parka, tossed it on the chair at the table and stared back at Thomas with furrowed brows.

_Guess the home setting gave him back some confidence._

“Are we dating?”

Thomas would be lying if the said the question didn’t knock some air out of his lungs, so when he just stared back at his companion, it wasn’t much of a wonder Newt’s expression didn’t look very happy.

“You kept on complaining, that’s why I ask,” Newt added and yeah, the bite was back, so he definitely considered himself stronger here, no doubt about it. Thomas couldn’t deny it annoyed him a little.

“No, we are not dating,” he retorted coldly. “We hardly could when all you do is pushing me away.”

“I’m pretty sure-,”

“Today doesn’t count,” Thomas stopped him mid-speech. “No clue what you’ve wanted to prove there either.”

Newt shut up, but his face frowned even more.

 _Dating_ , Thomas had no idea. This was not how dating normally went – it shouldn’t have been filled with fights and arguments. It shouldn’t have made them this unhappy either, and Thomas wasn’t sure how good it could get if they get past the initial barriers that surrounded both of them. Maybe they simply couldn’t change, no matter what they did?

“I told you I thought you would do something,” Newt finally spoke again and Thomas huffed. What was that supposed to mean, seriously? He expected him to be the bad guy who would not respect his wishes, so he could use it as another argument?

“I don’t get you,” Thomas shook his head. “You wanted me to get handsy so you’d have an ace up your sleeve that you were right? Because that’s kinda lame.”

Newt avoided his eyes again and absentmindedly scratched his arm like he was trying to busy himself somehow. When he didn’t say anything for longer than Thomas considered comfortable, he let out a long sigh and shook his head.

“Fine. So I guess that’s it,” he concluded. “Obviously all you want to do includes fighting over stupid things and creating problems, so let’s leave it at that we _could_ but _failed_.”

Sure, fighting was part of the relationship, it happened, but definitely not every day, for fun or out of spite. If Newt thought that they were going to do that all the time because he had the inclination, he was fucking wrong.

“What?” Newt stared at him again, eyes wide and little disbelieving. “You think I want to fight all the bloody time?”

“Yeah?” Thomas shrugged without hesitation. “All you do is… argue. Nag. Argue again. Geez, even your texts are full of _don’t bother me_ tone.”

“I don’t mean it that way!”

Thomas snorted and shook his head again. _Don’t mean it that way?_

“Fine, so _how_ do you mean it?” he crossed his arms on his chest challengingly. “How else you could possibly mean a text saying if I touched you in front of them you’d make sure it would be the last time?”

“I didn’t write it like that,” Newt let out like a deflating balloon and Thomas could almost see the wheels in his head turning, maybe trying to recall the concrete text or the thought behind it. Really, did he even think of what he was texting back or just blurted out the most annoyed response out of habit?

“You want me to read it to you?” Thomas reached for the phone, but before he could actually pull it out of his pocket, Newt’s hand stopped him with a firm grip on his wrist. Thomas didn’t even notice him to get this close so fast, but suddenly he was standing in front of him and his expression was genuinely upset.

_Oh._

„No,“ the blond let out. “I don’t want you to read it.” The grip remained.

“So…”

“I thought you’re not going to listen to me in anything,” the words poured out of Newt’s mouth like a waterfall, brushing against every rock and doubt and exasperation. “I thought you’re going to be insufferable, because you acted borderless yesterday and didn’t even listen to me and teased me with the texts and I was mad. I thought I was going to fight with that attitude, that I need to… do something for you to calm down and _listen_. I…thought I needed to, even though I don’t mind it, but I was prepared and…”

“And I did not,” Thomas added to it, although it sounded rather weak, how his senses overloaded by the amount of sincerity in Newt’s voice.

“Look, I know it’s stupid, but…” Newt’s grip didn’t relent at all, and Thomas wondered if he even knew he held him still like that. He experimentally tried to move his hand away, but Newt didn’t give out, so he stopped. “This whole thing is making me bloody insecure, especially today, because I was trying to do something and you brushed me off-,”

“You actually _wanted_ for me to give in there?” Thomas gawked and tried to replay the situation in his head again, although the clarity was already not so great. He really thought Newt was just trying to rile him up, to make him snap on purpose, but out of spite or maybe mockery, not because he wanted to… _wanted to_.

“I mind, okay?” Newt took a deep breath and finally eased his grip off. He didn’t do anything about the distance though, and Thomas was glad. “I mind stuff like a normal human being, and fine, maybe I have some moodiness issues here and now-,”

“Like all the time, you mean.”

“Because you never do what I want you to do!” Newt hissed at him, but the spark of anger diminished immediately and his glare tamed again. “And you said you don’t know what I’m thinking or what I want. But I don’t know what _you_ are thinking either, because I thought you would be readable after yesterday, but you closed off again and there is _nothing_ I could be sure about.”

“Closed off?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Man, I’m an open book! Everybody says so.”

“Well, then everybody either lies or they’re mind readers and I wasn’t at the right line when they were giving it for free,” Newt grumbled and if Thomas wanted to be really honest, he would have to admit he understood that. He never really knew what this guy thought either, no matter what. Not even now.

“Fine,” Thomas gave up. “You don’t know what I want. But it’s simple – I want you and I wanted you for some time, and that’s not really a rocket science, you know.”

Newt stiffened for a fraction of second and then let out a long breath, his body slowly relaxing again. He hummed shortly and then looked up, his eyes searching.

“You seriously acted cold just because I told you to behave there?” he inquired and Thomas felt an urge to roll his eyes. It was like walking in circles with this guy, for real.

“Yes, precisely because you specifically asked me to _heel_ ,” he answered unhappily. “Which, by the way, is not funny and you need to work on your sense of humour.”

“My sense of humour is fine, thank you very much,” Newt shot right back at him and then barked out a laugh. “This is stupid.”

“This is what happens when you keep stuff to yourself, you know,” Thomas offered in an attempt to get the conversation back in the right tracks, searching for a conclusion. “If you just told me you weren’t searching for a reason why not to-,“

“Think, Thomas,” Newt groaned and pushed into his chest – not hard, but still sure. “If I didn’t want it, why would I said all those things yesterday?”

“Because you’re a little shit and likes to make people miserable?” Thomas guessed with a smirk and had to admit he earned that specific glare. “Well, you could have changed your mind, you know. That happens.”

“Over night.”

“Yeah, could be in a matter of minutes even,” he shrugged, but Newt shook his head and then took a step closer, leaning into him until he buried his face in Thomas’ jacket and stayed there.

“I did not,” Thomas heard him mumble. Then, after several more seconds of silence he added: “This is difficult.”

“It’s not difficult,” Thomas opposed quietly. “It’s how you make it.”

“Your heartbeat is so steady.”

“Oh?” Thomas tilted his head to the side, trying to focus on the drumming in his chest, but from the proximity with Newt he could barely pay attention to anything else than the blond.

“I want to make it quicker.”

Thomas didn’t have time to ask what he meant, because Newt grabbed him by his collar and pulled him down for a kiss.

The last thought he had was something along the lines _well, you just succeeded._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> There is lots of talking ~


	15. Pigtails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m not holding hands with you at school,” Newt informed him with deadly seriousness, but if his words were a ball, he would see them bounce against Thomas’ head and fall somewhere behind them, untouched. He took another step back, just to be followed again and realized he had reached the end of the path – the next step was his bed and Thomas definitely didn’t have guts to-  
> “How about we sit down?”  
> Ha.  
> “Or lie down?”  
> Ha ha.

It worked.

The steadiness was gone, the blood roared and Newt could feel it under his fingertips, the fast, rabbiting pace of Thomas’ heart, the rhythm to match his own. Thomas’ lips were pliant and warm and really, really soft. Their mouths moved in synch and when Newt felt a nudge of Thomas’ tongue to open up a little, he granted the entrance almost immediately to deepen the experience, to feel the heat rising inside of his belly, and spreading through his body.

Thomas’ hands sneaked around him for more contact, pressing him closer, his hands grabbing a handful of his butt, and bending him backwards until they had to part for breath. Nothing out of that could possibly offend him, the touches were _right_ and Newt had no strength left for posing or acting against it.

“Okay,” Thomas let out breathlessly, staring into Newt’s eyes with his pupils dilated, his mouth slick and a little red. “Forgiven. _Fuck_.”

“I’m not sure _fuck_ is the best thing to do when my family is downstairs, but I appreciate the thought,” Newt responded with a small laugh and Thomas snorted and buried his face in the crook of Newt’s neck. They were so close Newt still felt his heart against his chest, beating like a drum, and his own must have made a similar noise, an excited pumping filling him to the brink.

Hell, he wasn’t sure if this was _love_ , but it definitely had to be at least something. None of his previous experiences made him hot like this.

“You’re ridiculous,” he heard Thomas mumbling against his skin and the place tingled. “Can we date now?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you done pulling my pigtails?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Couldn’t say I didn’t expect that,” Thomas sighed, raising his head back up to stare into Newt’s eyes. “Is it a secret?”

“Everybody knows I pull your pigtails all the time,” Newt smirked and wondered when his hand grabbed Thomas’ shirt in a firm grip, twisting the fabric. “It’s no secret.”

“I may kiss you as a revenge though, shouldn’t that be a secret?” Thomas opposed and Newt could vividly imagine how much ruckus that would cause. Maybe the classroom would even explode. “Because I will do that.”

“So cheesy,” Newt uttered and forced himself to ease the grip. A secret. The relationship? The dating part? Geez, he wasn’t even sure if they were actually able to date, what if tomorrow everything fell back into the old routine? It was so damn easy with them… so palpable to stay snarky and annoyed because that was what he had been doing for half a year now. It almost felt like a habit.

“Hey,” Thomas caught his hand in a firm grip and frowned, his eyes darkening. “Don’t close off.”

“’Am not.”

“You’re overthinking it again.” The accusation wasn’t wrong and Thomas’ eyes were clearly showing he knew that very well – the look Newt sometimes got from him when they argued, a clear understanding, or maybe suspicion reflected there.

He took a deep breath and then let it out again, his head clearing. They were still in his room, alone. There was nobody to watch them, nobody to keep the score or tell them their bickering was getting tiresome.

Just them. No need to pretend or anything. No need to close off.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’ve been doing this for so long, it’s like-,”

“Don’t do it anymore,” Thomas cut him off sternly and Newt blinked in surprise. Was that an order? Bloody hell, he was not trying to get an upper hand like a caveman, did he?

“Do you enjoy ordering me around?” he tried to pull his hand away, but Thomas held it too firmly, making Newt grumble.

“Eh,” the brunet shrugged but corners of his lips were turned upwards. “I could get used to it.”

“In your dreams, sunshine,” Newt informed him and took a step back, which made Thomas follow him. He still held his hand and when Newt glanced at it, he switched position and intertwined their fingers together.

“Really.”

“Yeah,” Thomas shrugged. “’s nice.”

“I’m not holding hands with you at school,” Newt informed him with deadly seriousness, but if his words were a ball, he would see them bounce against Thomas’ head and fall somewhere behind them, untouched. He took another step back, just to be followed again and realized he had reached the end of the path – the next step was his bed and Thomas definitely didn’t have guts to-

“How about we sit down?”

_Ha._

“Or lie down?”

_Ha ha._

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?” Newt eyed him with suspicion, but Thomas only grinned in response, and Newt felt his stomach do a flip at it. Hell, how annoying he had to be that he couldn’t really remember Thomas to be this open to him?

“It’s fine, I’m just kidding,” the brunet nudged his chest and slowly eased off the hold he had on him. “I’m glad we had this talk. Cleared things up.”

“Um.”

“I should head back,” Thomas glanced at the window and stuck his hands in his jacket’s pockets. “It’s late.”

The sky was black and the wind was blowing against the trees around the house, making the outside stride quite unappealing, and Newt never thought he would feel bad for letting anybody go out at this hour (well, it wasn’t _that_ late, but it sure wasn’t early either, and if he wanted to write cliché romantic novels, he had a bloody great setup worth a cringe).

“You can stay, you know,” he blurted out and Thomas looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. “If you want.”

“No way,” he let out and Newt froze.

“No way?” he repeated and Thomas took a step back. It was cautious, like he was walking on broken glass, and Newt didn’t understand. Did he read it wrong or…?

 _…what_?

“Are you after my body?!” Thomas pointed at Newt almost accusingly and another step back followed. Newt stared. “That’s so low of you… we didn’t even have our first date yet. Tsk tsk.”

_That bloody idiot._

“Thomas, I swear to god I will hit you,” he hissed at him threateningly and at that point Thomas started to laugh he almost broke over.

“Y-your face!”

“You’re an asshat, I swear-,”

“I should have made a photo!”

“For fuck’s sake-,”

“Do it again!”

“Out!” he snapped at that insufferable guy and when Thomas only laughed harder, he stomped over to him and started pushing him towards the doors.

Making fun of him, ha! Bloody bastard, seriously, what Newt had even seen in him? Freaking clown-

“Aw, man,” Thomas kept on chuckling, but the hysterical laughter was at least gone now. He didn’t budge an inch either, like he rooted to the floor and Newt huffed when he tried to move him. “You’re so fucking adorable I could eat you up.”

“Stop spouting nonsense, idiot,” Newt pushed to his chest again, but no use. “Just go-!”

“Buuuut,” Thomas faked a whine and avoided another push that almost sent Newt flying to the ground if he didn’t catch him from behind and locked him in an embrace. “You want me to stay.”

“ _Wanted!_ ” Newt snapped at him and started kicking around, until a hot puff of air hit his ear along with a rough voice that made his heart stop for a second.

“I can make you want that again,” Thomas whispered to him and his arms pulled him tighter against his chest. “If you allow me ~.”

“Mate,” Newt groaned, but went limp in his arms anyway. What a goddamn low blow! “This is not a porn movie, you know.”

“Oh?” Thomas’ hold didn’t relent and there was a small kiss just behind Newt’s ear. “Too late, nobody told me.”

“Wait!” Newt squeaked and Thomas’ body tensed. “Are _you_ after _my_ body?!”

“Oh you didn’t,” the brunet barked out a laugh, but at least it allowed Newt to slink out of his hold and took few steps back until he hit the door. His breath was elevated, but he couldn’t help the grin forcing its way up his face anyway.

“Too bad I couldn’t see _your_ expression,” he retorted breathlessly, but Thomas was smiling and that was a good sign. “You dirty cheater.”

“So does it mean I can stay?” the brunet tilted his head to the side and the wildly beating heart was back. “In all innocence, of course.”

“I’m not really a damsel in distress, you know,” Newt reminded him – he couldn’t help but find the notion of _in all innocence_ ridiculous with them. Maybe if Newt was a girl, then it could have worked, somehow. “There is not going to be any blushing, pillow fight or love confession involved.”

“Man, don’t crush my dreams like this,” Thomas piped. “No pillow fight, I’m so disappointed.”

Newt shook his head and motioned for him to come closer, which Thomas did. His hands immediately got a hold of Newt’s waist and the touch was gentle, almost caressing, and it successfully made Newt stop thinking for a while, just to relish it.

He had rather big hands, this guy. Big and warm and feeling sort of right on his body, like they belonged. He leaned back against the door with a small sigh and Thomas stayed on spot, just touching his waist like Newt was something fragile, his fingers gliding over the fabric of the shirt up and down, up and down.

“You’re so thin,” he heard him mumble. “I’m sure your ribs are showing.”

“Possibly,” Newt admitted with a lazy smile. “Want to count them?”

“Tempting.”

“Too bad this is not a porn movie,” the blond faked a sigh and Thomas let out a chuckle. He had this… content look in his eyes, like he reached some kind of milestone he wanted. His hands slowed down, then resume their pace again, and Newt thought he could stay like this for a while, that he wouldn’t really mind.

“I don’t consider you a damsel,” Thomas said. Newt looked at his face curiously, but Thomas’ eyes were fixated on his belly like he found something very interesting there. “Or… fragile or anything. I know you can kick my butt anytime.”

“Hmm.”

“What I meant was…” Thomas’ eyes finally climbed up, over Newt’s chest, stopping at his neck for a second, until he returned the gaze. “I’m kinda happy I can stay? And I don’t mean in a sexual way, I’m just glad we can talk a little more.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” Newt smirked and shortly touched the centre of Thomas’ chest. The heartbeat was steady again, and sort of calming. “Guess you won me over.”

“Phew, what a hard work it was,” Thomas grinned and his hands dropped down, making Newt feel a bit at loss. “Minho wasn’t lying when he said there was a long road ahead of me.”

“I don’t think I wanna know,” Newt rolled his eyes and reached up for Thomas’ jacket, pulling at it. “Get this off. I’ll just tell downstairs you’re staying.”

“Ah man, I’ve wanted dramatically leave through the window in the morning,” Thomas sighed and Newt really, really wasn’t sure _what_ made him fall for him.

Probably spark of insanity (which was fine).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Sorry for delay guys! My mum had been in hospital since Thursday and it worn me out so much all I could do was watching sad movies and cry. I'm back though! All revived! Thank you for your patience ~


	16. Annoying sleeping habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I forgot to ask,” Newt suddenly spoke, his eyes half lidded and little sleepy and Thomas wanted to kiss him so bad and never stop. “Any annoying sleeping habits I should know of?”  
> “I slobber.”  
> “Disgusting.”

Newt’s room was comfortable, semi-dark and warm. Thomas thought being too bold would put him in trouble but he somehow couldn’t stop himself from being so open about everything, like the place made him lose the barriers. He simply climbed on the bed before Newt got back from downstairs just to try it, he looked through the book he had on the bedside table, he checked under the bed for naughty stuff (found nothing though, pity), and the nice, excited feeling of actually moving their cohabitation further surrounded him like an impenetrable fortress.

When Newt came back, he carried a tray with drinks and snacks and looked mildly disturbed – maybe even more so when he spotted Thomas sitting on his bed like it belonged to him.

“Made yourself at home, eh?” he commented, but didn’t sound angry, so Thomas kept the relaxed pose and only watched him putting the tray on the table next to a keyboard.

“Were they mad I’m here?” Thomas inquired while watching Newt’s back with curiosity and the blond shook his head and turned towards him. His face still carried traces of discomfort and Thomas waited for the punchline.

“Not at all,” Newt responded verbally too. His voice sounded low and little lazy. “But Sonya took the opportunity to get me back for the glitter fiasco, so now oldies think we paint each other’s nails here and braid our hair.”

“Aww.”

“But the only thing mum said was _behave_ , so I guess it’s fine,” the blond shrugged and reached behind himself for the glass with soda, just to hand it to Thomas with a sigh. “She asked about million times if you’re hungry, but judging from the amount of junk food you ate at Minho’s place, I told her no. But if you are, I can bring you something.”

“I am,” Thomas took the glass with a grin. “But not really for food.”

“Very funny,” Newt rolled his eyes, but his shoulders lost their tenseness somehow, so Thomas considered it as a victorious remark. He shifted a little and patted the spot next to him, and was glad Newt didn’t try to fight it and simply took the place, sitting next to Thomas easily. “I just didn’t expect them to ask so many questions.”

“Oh?”

“Guess Sonya had been talking,” the blond smirked and leaned against Thomas until he was resting his head on Thomas’ shoulder (which was pretty nice and Thomas could get used to it in matter of seconds, if he gave in). “They knew so much about you already.”

“Like what?” Thomas raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t even guess what Sonya could have been telling them – all she had seen was fighting and nagging and arguing and maybe heard Newt spitting venom around at home, so that didn’t look very promising.

“Like if you’re _the guy I keep on hitting on_ ,” Newt uttered and the disturbed expression was back. Thomas kind of understood. “From Sonya’s point of view we had been on it for like… _months_.”

“So perceptive,” Thomas chuckled and when Newt scoffed, he circled his free arm around his waist and pulled him closer to his body while kissing his temple. “That’s fine, you know. At least I’m not _the guy you wanted to murder_. Would be awkward.”

“I wonder, since sometimes I wanted to stuff you somewhere and let you rot,” Newt pointed out and Thomas refused to take it as an insult, not when Newt was actually smiling about it, all content snuggled to Thomas’ side. “So how it must have looked to others when my sister thought I had been hitting on you instead?”

“A foreplay, maybe?” the brunet offered and let his hand wander along Newt’s back. He had just a shirt on and he could feel the shape of his spine and all the dips around. “Although a little sadistic.”

“Well, maybe I am a sadist after all,” Newt shrugged and his body moved away, much to Thomas’ dismay. He watched him to stand up and walk towards one of the wardrobes where he stopped as if deep in thought.

“How do you usually sleep?” he asked suddenly, glancing back at Thomas.

“Underwear?” the brunet made a vague gesture. “But I can sleep clothed, no prob.”

“I expected _naked_ ,” Newt rolled his eyes and it made Thomas laugh.

“You forget I live with two girls under the roof,” he pointed out. “They’re really not much into seeing my junk every morning.”

“Forget I asked.”

“Whaaat, you want me to sleep naked?” Thomas teased him despite the warning anyway. “I can totally do that for you.”

“You think _I_ am into seeing your junk in the morning?” Newt sent him a glare and it made Thomas burst out in laughter.

Yeah, he could totally see why he fell for this guy.

***

He didn’t expect to sleep on the bed. It wasn’t _that_ small, not at all – but it was Newt’s, they just established dating could be a nice thing and sleeping in the same bed seemed farfetched.

And yet here he was, lying on his side, staring into Newt’s eyes while the light dimmed and the clock showed a little past midnight. They had been talking until now and Thomas found it comforting, because he never thought he could have such a calm, pleasant conversation with the blond without any bad blood brewing between them. But apart from occasional jabs Thomas kind of appreciated anyway, their conversation was peaceful and maybe slightly establishing, strengthening the resolve of actually going through the whole dating thing to reach some sort of consensus (Thomas at least hoped they’d reach one, some nice, both parties flattering compromise).

“I forgot to ask,” Newt suddenly spoke, his eyes half lidded and little sleepy and Thomas wanted to kiss him so bad and never stop. “Any annoying sleeping habits I should know of?”

“I slobber.”

“Disgusting.”

“You love me anyway,” Thomas grinned cheekily and Newt slapped him over his head, which was probably a little warranted. He still grabbed the hand in mid-air anyway and pulled it close to him, on his chest, intertwining their fingers together. Newt left him to it without even making a face. “Well, I guess I like to spread around. Maybe you’ll need to kick me back to the right place at some point during the night.”

“I’ll kick you off the bed,” Newt promised him sweetly. “I do that on default anyway.”

“Kicking people off the bed?”

“Kicking in general.”

“Oh what a sweetheart you are,” Thomas snorted and playfully threw a leg over Newt’s hip, pushing him close. The blond didn’t make any noise and went rather easily, but then he felt a bite on his collarbone and that was apparently Newt’s sense of revenge.

“You don’t find this weird?” he heard after a while and he had to admit it was a good question, definitely a one he should have thought about as well. Somehow he didn’t have the need though, like if suddenly lying in the same bed as his crush was normal, and no initial awkwardness could ruin this.

“You do?” he decided not to answer and felt Newt fidget slightly before relaxing again.

“Yeah, I guess,” the blond admitted quietly. “I mean just few hours ago I thought we’re having a crisis.”

“Well, we did have a slight crisis,” Thomas concluded gently. “I mean, I was pretty pissed off when you left. I was really looking forward to spending the day with you and it turned out to be so lame…”

“That’s cuz you can’t read the mood,” Newt opposed. “I thought it was pretty much clear what I’ve wanted from you.”

“ _I_ can’t read the mood?” Thomas frowned at the implication. “I was in a concealing mode; I didn’t even _dare_ to look at you more or I’d jump you.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not having a clue of what’s going on until somebody hit you with a brick,” Newt poked his chest.

“I’m pretty sure you’re trying my resolve right now,” Thomas grumbled and when he heard Newt snort while saying _what resolve_ , something inside of him snapped. Newt yelped when he got tossed on his back like a sack of potatoes and Thomas towered above him with stern expression, staring down at the messy blond hair, still wet from the shower, and wide, brown eyes, but there was no fear in the expression, or shock or not even surprise. Nope, Newt simply stared back at him, almost challengingly so and Thomas really wanted to know if Newt could see the battle in him through his eyes.

“So,” the blond piped.

“No.”

“Do I need the brick?” that little devil tilted his head and Thomas could see the mischievousness in his eyes, brewing there dangerously. He just _had to_ be all seductive when the possibility to touch him more could result in not being able to stop? Damn, they just made up! It was like a blind invitation to do something inappropriate, like sucking a huge hickey on his neck and inner thigh, or trying to find out where exactly he was sensitive the most only by using tongue or… Jesus fucking Christ, they were _not_ having sex while Newt’s whole damn family was home!

“You just thought of sex, didn’t you,” the blond deadpanned mercilessly and Thomas couldn’t stop the groan. Maybe he should have left the pants on, _for fuck’s sake._ “You had that perverted look in your eyes.”

“How do you even _know_ how my perverted look looks like?” he whined at the unfairness of Newt’s sudden ability to read him like a damn open book, even though he had been struggling with it for half a year. Did a sudden dating progress grant him that skill?

“Well. You had it on your face few times already,” Newt smirked and Thomas hated (loved, god, he loved it, _loved_ , but hated, because it was unfair how much he loved it) how Newt reached up and locked his hands behind Thomas’ neck, playing with his hair, scraping his scalp. It was like he carefully planned this kind of stuff and that definitely blew Thomas’ mind, because it would mean holding back wasn’t really a necessity here.

“I just wasn’t sure what it meant until yesterday,” the blond added, the curve of his mouth enchanting. “When you told me about _indecent things_.”

“I haven’t told you about indecent things,” Thomas opposed and didn’t really blame his hands for wandering now, starting at Newt’s slender hips covered in pyjama pants that hung dangerously low. “I’ve just mentioned the phrase. You have _noooo idea_ what those things entail.”

“Try me.”

“Does your dad have a gun?”

Newt blinked and his fingers stopped the caressing. Thomas regretted it immediately, but the confused look on Newt’s face was worth it.

“My dad?”

“Yeah. I just want to be sure he’s not going to shoot me for soiling his precious son-ouch!”

“I’ll soil _you_ if you keep spouting stupid shit like this,” Newt glared and his hands weren’t gently touching anymore, but pulling at his hair unhappily. It still made Thomas laugh though.

“Seriously, you can’t read the mood _at all_!” A push into his chest didn’t really move him, but Newt attempted it several times anyway, with no success. Instead of it Thomas boldly sat on his thighs and grabbed both of his struggling hands to press small kisses into both of his palms.

“I can read the mood just fine,” he assured the blond with a smile. It was just so fun to see him at least a little bit frustrated, with the little pout and the fierceness in his eyes. “I just really like to tease you.”

“Twat.”

“That little pout of yours-,”

“Thomas, I’ll seriously kick you off the bed if you don’t stop.”

“Just so adorable-,”

“I’m sincerely regretting I agreed to date you.”

“I even like how dishonest you are just for the sake of acting all tough,” Thomas grinned at him and Newt hissed like a cat. “How do I even deserve you?”

“Mate,” the blond groaned. “You’re killing my brain cells with this talk.”

„You hate it?“ Thomas tilted his head to the side, even though asking such question was never going to get an honest answer. It wasn’t like he wanted to push Newt to tell him something that would betray the posing he held on, but he felt playful and the teasing was his form of sweet talk anyway. Newt seriously reacted the best under those words, he just had to keep it up.

The blond rolled his eyes and sighed, then shook his head. He wasn’t struggling anymore and his whole body seemed relaxed under Thomas’ weight.

“No,” he let out after, grudgingly. “I don’t hate it.”

“Oh, goodie.”

He wanted to tease a little more, but Newt simply pulled himself up and sealed all the words inside of Thomas’ mouth with an insistent kiss. Thomas started to think it was probably the best way how to shut him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Well, I talk in my sleep \o/


	17. Sleepless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas – 3:07 – Can’t sleep?? It’s three in the morning, kitten.  
> “Kitten,” Newt repeated the word with an eye roll while staring into the text. “You’re impossible.”  
> Newt- 3:08 – I noticed. I tried EVERYTHING.  
> Thomas – 3:09 – Even jerking off?  
> “Pffft.”

Newt couldn’t sleep. The moment his head hit the pillow all kinds of annoying thoughts flooded his head, chased away any ounce of sleepy mood he had. Every time he glanced at the clock it showed that another hour had passed and he still lay wide awake, staring into his ceiling, and _thinking_. The bed was vacant now, comfortable, with nobody usurping the space he was used to. He could stretch and he could bend anyhow he wanted without bumping into a heavy weight that prevented him to move around and Newt seriously thought it would grant him a proper shut eye.

But nope.

The fact Thomas wasn’t here anymore, that it was Sunday and Monday was breathing on his neck with each passing hour, somehow drilled into his brain with annoying uncomfortableness, in spite of the fact Saturday had been such a whack and he thought nothing could be worse.

But even though sleeping with Thomas proved to be almost bloody _impossible_ (nerve wrecking, annoying and a little suffocating), the sudden absence was even worse and Newt didn’t understand why.

Thomas wasn’t lying when he said he was spreading around, but he forgot to mention he also _rolled_ to all directions like a bulldozer and there was no way any kind of bed could be big enough for this idiot. Naturally it put Newt into pissy mood, because the whole night he probably got an hour, maybe two hours of sleep before he got woken up again by another hit or wild movement, _Jesus_ , it was awful. Out of spite he woke him up several times as well to share the pain, but Thomas fell back asleep faster than Sleeping beauty and it was _unfair_.

Not even the fact they made out before could soften the impact of restless night, and it was actually pretty hot (Newt couldn’t – and wouldn’t deny that he enjoyed it, because Thomas was good at it. His kisses were sensual and deep and made Newt’s toes curl, he was perceptive and remembered immediately what made Newt feel good and what he didn’t like at all, and he alone reacted so nicely it made Newt really motivated to find more pleasurable spots as well). So yeah, they shared some hot, exciting moments while trying to keep their voices low, but the night made Newt so grumpy that morning definitely didn’t hold any lovey dovey appeal at all (Thomas said sorry, but Newt pushed him away still).

So he looked forward to this night, because zombie probably felt better than he did during Sunday, just to get disappointed again by his own messed up brain. Nothing helped – reading only made his eyes burn, music couldn’t properly reach and lull his brain to sleep, and he didn’t want to go downstairs to watch a movie because his mum would nag him for it.

When the time reached 3 in the morning, he grabbed his phone and texted Thomas that he couldn’t sleep and hated his life, and then tossed the phone next to him with a groan. Everything about today was wrong – the morning sucked, the breakfast sucked too because Sonya found a pleasure in teasing him about Thomas spending the night and their mum happily added to it, and the rest of the day passed in a blur, because Newt had been so bloody tired to actually do more than stare into nothingness once Thomas left.

But he definitely didn’t expect his phone to beep just few minutes later and the light almost blinded him when he reached for it and opened the message.

**Thomas – 3:07 – Can’t sleep?? It’s three in the morning, kitten.**

 “Kitten,” Newt repeated the word with an eye roll while staring into the text. “You’re impossible.”

**Newt- 3:08 – I noticed. I tried EVERYTHING.**

**Thomas – 3:09 – Even jerking off?**

“Pffft.”

**Newt – 3:10 – Hmm. No, I haven’t tried that, point taken.**

**Thomas – 3:11 – Thomas saves the day again ~**

**Newt – 3:12 – Nobody said it would definitely work, so you haven’t saved anything yet :P**

**Thomas – 3:13 – It usually works for me ;) I’d lend you a hand, but…**

Newt closed his eyes and took a deep breath when a shimmer of excitement shot though him like a lightning, and nestled inside of his belly. He was ridiculous, almost like fifteen again with hormones jumping around in his body like wild beasts, causing him to be oversensitive to a simple touch from Thomas – or just a thought of it, _god._

**Newt – 3:17 – Yeah, pity.**

**Thomas – 3:18 – What was that long pause? ;) Thought of me, hm?**

“As if you need your ego fed more than it already is,” Newt mumbled and tossed on his side while staring at the display. Thomas knew what he could do to Newt – damn, he saw it pretty clearly yesterday night and even boldly commented on it (too boldly, Newt still felt his face burning from the remarks every time he remembered). But he had the right to make such assumption, because Newt did think of him and couldn’t stop.

**Newt – 3:19 – Yeah.**

He sighed unhappily and checked the time with a scowl. He had just few more hours before he needed to get up to school, and as much as he was looking forward to seeing Thomas again, he also wanted to be rested well enough to actually enjoy it. Bad sleep would only remind him how atrocious sleeping with his _boyfriend_ in one bed was, and he didn’t need that. Thomas already got an earful for it anyway.

**Thomas – 3:27 – Want me to call you?**

Newt’s breath hitched in his throat at the image of hearing him so late at night, with enough excitement built up in him already. He was tempted, so bloody tempted to say yes, because there was no doubt he would come the moment he would touch himself when hearing Thomas’ rough voice, and maybe it would really help him sleep, who knew?

**Newt – 3:30 – What was that long pause? Thought of me?**

He typed instead, his hands shaking a little, and the answer arrived almost immediately.

**Thomas – 3:31 – Jesus. YES.**

Newt smirked and it was so easy to recall the night before, the warmth that came with it, and wetness and satisfaction, the breathless pleas. Their intertwined legs and grabby hands, hungry kisses and the taste of skin and salt and sweat, everything was alive in his mind, clear like a day. Yes, they didn’t dare to actually have sex when Newt’s room bordered with Sonya’s and she was clearly hyperaware of their presence (there still were remarks during breakfast and Newt wanted to hit her with newspaper), but if the conditions were move favourable, Newt was almost sure they would.

Or at least he would want to. Probably. Kind of.

He whined and shook his head, trying to get rid of the vivid images. Instead of it he wrote another message, wondering if Thomas didn’t fall asleep already. Why was he awake anyway? Did the phone wake him up or was he having trouble sleeping as well? It was so late.

**Newt – 3:33 – We need to establish few things. You calling me kitten is not acceptable.**

**Thomas – 3:35 – Are you seriously ditching the possibility to have phone sex, kitten? :D**

Newt huffed, but he had to admit it was sort of… cute? Probably. For a girl though, he definitely wouldn’t want to be called that at school (in front of Minho? Social suicide).

**Newt – 3:36 – To what point? I’d blow the moment I hear you.**

**Thomas – 3:37 - ;;;; Shit, I really want to see you right now.**

**Newt – 3:38 – Wait few hours.**

**Thomas – 3:40 – You’re going to be grumpy though.**

**Newt – 3:41 - With the lack of sleep, yeah.**

**Thomas – 3:42 – You’re so bitter when you’re tired ;;**

**Newt – 3:43 – Sorry.**

He really was sorry. He didn’t want to be annoyed when there was no proper reason, except his own comfort and tired mind. Thomas did nothing wrong and wanted to spend time with him, so hissing at him really was unfair (and it was unfair even today when they woke up, because Newt wasn’t really a ray of sunshine).

**Thomas – 3:45 – Then let me call you. Help you unwind. Then maybe you can sleep and be nice to me at school?**

**Newt – 3:47 – And here I thought you just want me to feel happy, and you’re just doing it because you’re scared of my bad mood?**

**Thomas – 3:49 – Who isn’t scared of your bad mood? C’mon, kitten, you said it’s going to be fast anyway ;)**

“Kitten,” Newt grumbled and buried his face into the pillow. Thomas simply had to feel a wicked pleasure out of teasing him, for how often he did it.

**Newt – 3:51 – Siiiiiiiiiiigh. Fine.**

He didn’t need to wait, the phone immediately lit up with Thomas’ name on the display and a familiar tune of the ringtone Newt added to his contact, and he picked up almost immediately so it wouldn’t wake anybody.

“Ayyy, you picked up,” Thomas’ voice flooded the line immediately, and his voice was soft and little sleepy over the edges. “Wasn’t sure you would.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Newt asked quietly and heard a small laugh.

“Cuz you’re not sleeping.”

“Did I wake you with the text?” he inquired and Thomas hummed.

“Yeah, but I don’t mind,” the brunet assured him. “I sleep with the phone next to my head. Even the charging notice wakes me.”

“That can’t be healthy,” Newt pointed out and Thomas’ chuckle sounded soothing.

“Pretty sure not sleeping at all is even worse,” he pointed out, like a gentle nudge to remind Newt why he called in the first place. “Hey, sorry again about the night before. Guess I’m out of practice with sleeping next to somebody.”

That weirdly stung. It wasn’t like Newt wanted him to have an experience with that to be able to sleep peacefully. He alone wasn’t the best sleeping companion either, he just didn’t have the opportunity to show it when Thomas kept him awake with his own habits.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. He knew he was rough in the morning (because his annoyance level was so high) and Thomas couldn’t be completely to blame.

Geez, he really needed to something about his attitude.

“We will work on it,” he added more softly, because he wanted to, as cliché as it sounded, to be able to wake up next to Thomas without an urge to strangle him. Or vice versa.

“Yeah, that’ll be cool,” Thomas agreed with much more relaxed tone now and Newt could almost see the smile on his face (hell, he would _love_ to see the smile right now). “So, should I talk dirty to you now or…?”

“Oh please,” Newt barked out a laugh. “The mood is already gone.”

“Nooo, come back, mood!” Thomas whined and Newt couldn’t help but smile. “I never tried phone sex, that’s so sad.”

“I don’t even find it interesting,” Newt turned on his back and started into the ceiling. The sleepiness still didn’t come, but he felt better after talking to the guy. “Or entertaining.”

“That’s cuz you never tried it,” Thomas opposed and Newt heard sheets rustling, probably how he changed position as well. “Or maybe you don’t have enough imagination?”

“I prefer the real thing,” the blond uttered.

“You’re evil,” Thomas mumbled with a sigh. “Saying these things when I can’t do anything about it.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m going to kiss you tomorrow,” the brunet announced and Newt blinked in surprise at such bluntness. “The first thing in the morning. With tongue.”

“Why does it sound like a threat?”

“Cuz it is,” Thomas assured him. His voice sounded determined. “So you should be prepared.”

“Alright, alright,” Newt shook his head and rubbed his eyes sleepily. “I’m mentally preparing myself right now.”

“Good,” Thomas voiced. “Oh, and Newt.”

“Yeah?” Newt hummed.

“Next time you come I want to see your face.”

“Wha-,”

“Night, kitten.”

 _Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Well. Not sure Newt is going to thank him tomorrow ~


	18. Psychic Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I thought you have like… a small dog,” the blond piped, scratching Maze leisurely. “Like Chihuahua or something.”  
> “That’s not a dog,” Thomas refused the notion and dropped next to Newt on the floor to join him in the rubbing. “But a barking broom extension.”

Thomas knew the first thing in the morning that Newt was _not_ in good mood and probably didn’t even get a single shut eye, which made him feel rather guilty. It was rare for them to actually meet in front of the school building instead already in the classroom, but at least there still was a space to dodge a possible attack if anything.

Newt spotted him about halfway, stopped, and stared. Thomas stared back for a moment and then offered a sheepish smile, which, of course countered with a scowl. But then Newt changed his path and approached him instead, which made him break a cold sweat until the blond was in front of him, peering at him from under his long eyelashes like he was trying to solve him.

“Morning,” Thomas tried in a pacifying way and Newt took another step closer, so they were almost chest to chest.

“Kiss,” he said stubbornly and Thomas’ brain scrambled itself before he realized it was indeed a request and Newt wanted him to do it, here, out in the open. “You threatened me with it.”

“True,” the brunet allowed himself to smirk and gently touched the sides of Newt’s neck, immediately noticing the warmth and elevated heartbeat. His hands slid higher until he was cupping Newt’s face, his thumbs caressing the smooth cheekbones, and when the blond didn’t do anything against it except of looking back at him with a shockingly open expression, Thomas decided it was safe enough to actually fulfil the _threat_ and kiss him softly on the lips. He made it short and light so he wouldn’t spook him, and when he pulled away, Newt was still staring at him expectantly.

“You said with a tongue,” a complaint came. “So?”

_Fuck. He’s so cute I can’t bear it._

He captured his lips once more and Newt immediately complied when he licked his lower lip and probed for entrance, which alone was something that made Thomas hot in the wrong places. He tasted sweet and made soft, quiet noises in the back of his throat and Thomas really wanted to eat him up right on the spot. When there was a squeeze on his butt out of blue, he pulled away with a loud smack and took a deep, supposedly calming breath.

“Want to… ditch class?” he asked, his voice rougher than he expected it to be, and Newt buried his face in Thomas’ jacket.

“I want to sleep,” he heard him saying. “Fuck, you have _no idea_ how bloody tired I am.”

“Sorry,” Thomas kissed the top of his head. “Guess I didn’t really help yesterday.”

“Well, you definitely helped with making me more frustrated, that for sure.” Despite the jab Newt actually chuckled and Thomas felt his hands sliding under his jacket greedily. It was pretty nice to have him so bold to actually do that in public without needless posing. “But I still appreciate the effort.”

“Let’s ditch it today,” Thomas mumbled, taking in the deep, tired breaths Newt was drawing. “One day is fine. There are no test scheduled anyway, you need some sleep.”

“ _Lets_ is kinda telling I won’t be able to sleep anyway, with you there,” Newt opposed with a small laugh. “How’s that going to help?”

“I’ll let you sleep,” Thomas promised him in all seriousness. “Don’t worry.”

“Then you don’t need to ditch the class with me,” Newt pointed out logically, but Thomas was already too stubbornly put on the sole intent to get Newt out of this place, tuck him into the bed and watch over him. Doing anything else was simply a no-go.

“I so do,” he refused the point immediately and pulled away from the warmth of Newt’s body to look him in the face. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Newt opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he closed it again, and then shortly nodded. It was all Thomas needed.

***

“Why your place?”

“Cuz nobody’s home,” Thomas held the door to the flat opened and Newt entered with an evident caution. “Your mum doesn’t need to know you’re not at school, does she?”

“How considerate of you,” Newt glanced at him over his shoulder and then _oofed_ when Maze ran into him all excited and started sniffling.

“Oh, well, Maze is home of course,” Thomas grinned when Newt stared at the fluffy dog with wide eyes. He knew Thomas had a dog, didn’t he? Or maybe Thomas never told him? Or he forgot? Wait, what if he disliked dogs? Him being the cat and everything.

Thankfully Newt didn’t look bothered and when the initial surprise fell off his face, he started scratching the dog behind his ears and even rubbed his belly when Maze tossed himself on his back with his tail wagging and slobber going everywhere.

“I thought you have like… a small dog,” the blond piped, scratching Maze leisurely. “Like Chihuahua or something.”

“That’s not a dog,” Thomas refused the notion and dropped next to Newt on the floor to join him in the rubbing. “But a barking broom extension.”

Newt chuckled and leaned against Thomas lazily, and it was so different from what Thomas was used to it almost felt like a dream and he was a little afraid he would wake up from it. Having the blond acting meek and honest and actually kind of loving seemed unreal when he remembered how they behaved before towards each other.

“Wanna go to sleep then?” he asked him softly and Newt turned and buried his face into Thomas’ shoulder, where he nodded.

“Yes please,” he whispered after and Thomas wanted to kiss him senseless. Instead of it he stood up and grabbed Newt around his waist to carry him to his room, ignoring the yelp that came from the blond. Thankfully no fight occurred and they arrived to the dark bedroom in one piece where Thomas tossed his precious cargo on the mattress. He watched Newt bounce once until he remained lying there with hysterical laughter, and when it lasted for too long, he started undressing him at least. Newt let him, stream of giggles escaping his lips here and there while raising his hips for Thomas to pull his jeans off him and peel socks away. He took the parka off by himself, but Thomas had to get rid of the hoodie, because Newt watched him expectantly from the bed like small kitten that wanted to be petted and did nothing about it.

“There, all set now,” Thomas nudged the blond’s shoulder. “Or you want to borrow a shirt from me, so you don’t sleep in yours?”

“My shirt will survive,” Newt assured him with a grin. “Thanks though.”

“Go to sleep.”

Newt chuckled but complied and slinked under the blanket with a deep sigh that turned into a content hum once he lay down. Thomas could see the exhaustion in his body language loud and clear and decided he was a goddamn genius to let him sleep here, like a proper boyfriend.

_Seriously unreal. Newt’s boyfriend. My few months younger self would laugh._

“What are you going to do in meantime?” Newt asked sleepily, watching him with half lidded eyes, snuggled under the blanket comfortably. His ruffled hair looked like a halo from Thomas’ point of view, although he had very far to an actual angel.

More like a devil, that he was for sure.

“Watch you like a creep?” Thomas offered with a smirk and Newt rolled his eyes. “I dunno. Read something or make lunch or… whatever.”

“Not going to sleep with me?”

_Tempting like hell._

“You wouldn’t get any sleep if I did,” Thomas reminded him unhappily. Sure, he slept fine on Saturday, but the morning told him Newt did not and precisely because Thomas was a bulldozer while rolling around the bed. He didn’t blame Newt for being ruffled when he slept so little – when Thomas didn’t have enough sleep, he was pretty rude to everybody as well. It bothered him though, he definitely planned on sleeping with his boyfriend as much as he could, but at this condition it would only make them break up soon (probably, definitely), or spark another conflict (no please).

“Perv,” Newt piped.

“I meant-!”

“I know what you meant,” the blond assured him with a tired smile. “But we should train, you know.”

Thomas shushed him and despite the look Newt gave him, he was out like a light in another second.

***

It was a hard work to keep Newt undisturbed – everything seemed to make too much noise all of sudden, and Maze decided to be even more bothersome while scratching on the door so Thomas would let him in. Sure, he was used to the dog pawning him or sleeping next (or on) him at some point, but Newt definitely did not and Thomas liked Maze enough for not letting him to be turned into a fireplace trophy once Newt would skin him alive.

So he rather took the dog out for an hour to tire him at least a little and then gave him food so he would roll somewhere and fall into a content slumber – almost the same one Newt had been in for the time being.

When Thomas got back to the room, Newt probably didn’t even move from the position he fell asleep in and Thomas had to marvel for a moment how pleasurable the image of having this guy in his bed was. Sure, Newt would probably call him a creep for it, but there was some sort of possessiveness in seeing the content face of his, buried in Thomas’ blankets when Thomas himself put him there (not really because of what he would like to do more, but he still had been a cause of the exhaustion anyway).

“Stop watching me like a creep.”

_Ah._

“Did I wake you?” Thomas approached the bed with a smile and Newt stretched before he blinked sleepily at him and shook his head.

“Just randomly woke up,” the blond mumbled and reached for Thomas’ hand. His palm was warm and soft. ”How long was I out?”

“Just something over an hour,” Thomas sat at the edge of the bed and tightened the grip. “Sleep a bit more, yeah?”

“Sleep with me.” A gentle pull. “I can feel you moving around, you know.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“That’s some psychic stuff over here,” he chuckled and Newt snorted while pulling at his hand again, this time more insistently. “You sure? You know how I sleep.”

“Read the mood, genius,” the blond yawned and let go, just to roll on his side to make space. Thomas’ bed was smaller than Newt’s – not by much, but for two people it definitely had been narrow – but Newt didn’t say a single word about it and waited obediently for Thomas to get his jeans and hoodie off and crawl next to him.

“I just want to say the consequences of you murdering me are going to be sued, because you had been warned and everything you say will be used against you,” he pointed at the blond in all seriousness and Newt, in return, bit him.

“Shut up and cuddle me,” he laughed after and Thomas seriously had to say he was _in love_. He just didn’t know how to tell him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was busy hating him,” he uttered, like the not worth it excuse buried a thorn in his side all of sudden, again.   
> “Savage,” Thomas commented. Newt wondered if he at least gave it a thought, that one annoying movie Saturday night where all kind of broke down. Because he did, and it bothered him.  
> “Those were the times,” he faked a dramatic sigh and Minho next to him let out a groan. “But no, I never noticed. I just thought he was being weird. And annoying.”

“I’m just saying I thought you killed each other. Neither of you texted me since Saturday. And you didn’t come to school yesterday too. I was already preparing my best clothes for your funeral.”

Newt snorted, but didn’t say anything – it was aimed at Thomas anyway. Or maybe even at him, but since he refused to look to his left side for the sake of his concentration (since Thomas always beamed at him and Newt’s brain went offline after), he simply ignored it. It was true neither him or Thomas bothered by texting Minho they made up or any other result that could put his mind at ease. Both of them left on Saturday in a hurry and Minho could only guess how it ended up – if he knew Thomas had been on his way to Newt’s house, that is. But somehow Newt was almost sure Thomas told him and he could even imagine how (angry, gesticulating wildly while cursing Newt to hell and beyond while Minho either laughed or patted his back and said _good luck, dude, don’t die_ ).

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Thomas responded and even he sounded amused, which was a good sign. Newt wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with too much seriousness when it came to him and Thomas together, kind of, or any other label it could have. Of course, they dated, they established that already, but as much as Newt didn’t really care about people knowing, he refused to push it either. He had no idea what Thomas thought of it and if he cared about being or not being public about it, but he had to admit it could be pretty weird for others if they suddenly announced the mutual hate turned into… into, uh. Something else.

Not to mention Newt definitely wasn’t a type to rub it in people’s faces by making a fuss around it, or acting all in love in front of everybody. He was pretty content to keep the charms behind the closed door, stay private and comfortable – especially when he dated a guy.

“So what? A momentary truce again?” Minho asked and if he didn’t sound so curious, Newt wouldn’t feel bad for stepping into the conversation with a different topic to stop him from prying. Like this Minho wouldn’t be able to get swayed by anything until he learned the truth (it was his trademark thing, for real), so Newt kept the silence.

“Well,” Thomas drawled and Newt could almost feel him looking his way for confirmation, or whatever he wanted to be sure of. Wait, maybe he didn’t know what to say either? He quickly glanced at them and yeah, Thomas was looking at him, but with a smile and Newt kind of thought it gave Minho the answer he needed even without words.

Oh yeah. Thomas kind of was a guy who liked to be public with these things. Newt just hoped it wouldn’t end up with him bringing roses or something equally embarrassing.

“Oh,” Minho voiced out and actually didn’t look surprised. “I lost 50 bucks.”

“Serves you right,” Newt uttered dryly. Why wasn’t he even surprised they got betted on? The fact Minho actually put one and one together wasn’t such a big deal, he knew the guy was pretty emphatic when it came to other people’s behaviour. And they weren’t very subtle either.

“To whom?” Thomas asked with a snort and Minho pointed at Brenda sitting two seats in front of them, seemingly focused at the blackboard, which made Thomas gasp. “Hey, that’s not fair! She was at the source; you should reclaim your money back.”

“Still haven’t given her any,” Minho offered and Newt had to laugh at how hopeful he sounded. “Maybe we can keep it a secret from her?”

“Uh, yeah, that won’t do,” Thomas cleared his throat sheepishly and Minho gave him a suspecting stare.

There was this thing – Brenda came home earlier than Thomas and Newt had even woken up. And of course she decided to check Thomas’ room, since he didn’t come to school and everything, and found them nestled in his bed, which, naturally, led to her commenting on it. Although she wasn’t the one who woke them – it was Maze, since when she opened the door, he rocketed his way inside of the room and pounced on them like a sack of potatoes.

From there Thomas wasn’t even trying to cover it up with anything, he just told Brenda to leave them alone and go watch cartoons and Newt rolled around with the huge dog that wanted to play with him.

Sure, it was a bit annoying way how to wake up, but at least it was somebody else than Thomas who interrupted his sleep with flailing limbs or heavy weight. Newt counted it as a solid win while recharging at least slightly after four hours of blessed sleep (although his back really hurt and he had a cramp in his left arm, probably because Thomas had been lying on it, or he had it in a weird angle or something).

“You mean she already knows?” Minho deducted unhappily. “You don’t like me at all, do you. You should at least pity my wallet.”

“Was your own fault to bet on such stupid thing,” Newt informed him with an eye roll and Minho turned to him with a scowl.

“Dude, from my point of view you two had the best chances to kill each other, not screw each other. How should I have known?” he pointed out with a huff.

“Perv,” Newt deadpanned and turned back to his notebook, leaving Minho sputtering next to him.

Screw each other. They didn’t even get to that yet – a messy hand-job couldn’t be counted as _it_ in his book. Yet, in a sense, they were probably on a good way towards it and Newt wondered if it should have made him nervous at least. Maybe worried? Wait, did Thomas date a guy before or…? Did he even _know_ how to do it without Newt almost dying of pain in the process?

_Ugh, great thoughts right in the morning._

“What do you mean _how should you have known_?” Thomas brought Minho’s attention back to himself and Newt was kind of glad. “You knew about me already.”

“He knew about you?” Newt looked back at them both and Thomas gave out a tiny shrug. Did they talk about it with Minho? When?

“Well. He sorta… guessed?”

“You sorta guessed?” the blond focused at Minho and his classmate hummed as if in deep in thought. Seriously, _when_?

“Well… he was pretty obvious,” he said after. “I mean. All the heart eyes and the evident need to get your attention all the time… you never noticed?”

Noticed? Well, yes, Thomas had been insistent before, but all Newt remembered now was how he seemingly lost interest and stopped talking to him, like it threw a long, threatening shadow on the rest of the year they spent together in one class.

 _That_ made him uncomfortable for sure.

“I was busy hating him,” he uttered, like the _not worth it_ excuse buried a thorn in his side all of sudden, _again_.

“Savage,” Thomas commented. Newt wondered if he at least gave it a thought, that one annoying movie Saturday night where all kind of broke down. Because he did, and it bothered him.

“Those were the times,” he faked a dramatic sigh and Minho next to him let out a groan. “But no, I never noticed. I just thought he was being weird. And annoying.”

_And when it stopped it was even worse._

“I can feel the love,” Minho mumbled. “I can’t imagine what changed. You hit your head?”

“Possibly.”

“Oi,” Thomas eyed him warningly. “That’s not how you treat the love of your life.”

“Oh boy,” Minho piped.

“The love of my life?” Newt repeated the phrase with a snort. “That’s how you think I feel?”

“Naturally,” Thomas retorted back without missing a beat and Newt didn’t know if he seriously meant it or if he was playing the bickering game. Because sometimes it was so hard to tell with this guy – with everything he did or said, like a toy box where you didn’t know if you get a cute cat or a creepy clown.

“Aren’t you all confident,” he commented with a snort and Thomas seemed to stare harder than usual. Minho between them tried to get as small as he could, on board of actually melting through the chair and onto the ground. “What?”

No response, Thomas still stared with those big brown eyes of his – not like a puppy, more like a guarding dog that sensed a threat and was analysing it.

Newt cleared his throat. Minho slid even lower on his chair.

“Okay, okay. Love of my life,” Newt grumbled and when Thomas finally looked away and just said _that’s right_ , he had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from groaning.

“Can we switch places?” Minho asked in a small voice and at that point Newt couldn’t hold the groan anymore.

***

“What was that pause?”

Newt almost dropped the spoon when Thomas hung all over his back, his hands resting on Newt’s shoulders with a gentle squeeze. He didn’t notice him even entering the cafeteria, let alone approaching him, and it almost gave him a heart-attack.

“What?” he glanced up, giving Thomas a confused look. “You mean the pause before I almost spilled the soup thanks to you?”

“The pause before admitting you love me?” Thomas opposed with dangerously blunt question and at that point Newt really did drop the spoon, which sent the soup flying everywhere. Thomas didn’t look very guilty about it though, no matter how much Newt glared. “I’m hurt and bothered, you know.”

“I’m hurt and bothered about the soup as well,” Newt batted his hands away and then started to wipe away the food disaster that stained half of the table. “What’s up with you?”

“Just curious,” Thomas shrugged and sat next to him. He seemed calm and despite his words also unbothered, but he had been eying him a little differently since the talk with Minho and Newt wasn’t sure how to elaborate on that matter.

“About my undying love for you?” he asked as snarky as he could to change the course of the situation, but Thomas didn’t really react. “Jesus, what do you want me to say?”

“Nothing,” Thomas replied. It sounded more like _everything_ though.

“Good,” he decided to play his game anyway and put the dirty napkin away. It almost felt like nothing really changed between them when they were in school, like the distance still preserved, no matter how close they got during the weekend. “Nothing it is then.”

“Cold.”

“You said nothing,” Newt pointed out childishly.

“Read the mood, kitten,” Thomas smirked, using his phrase like it was nothing, and reached for his hands while squeezing them in his. “Just want you to know I love you. And today I realized I haven’t said it yet. So I’m saying it now.”

The touch was hot and Newt’s throat closed uncomfortably, like it wanted to prevent him from answering.

Hell, answering _how_?

“Don’t look so scared,” Thomas added almost softly and Newt realized they were sitting so close that if he tipped his head up he would be kissing him no problem. Was the cafeteria always this quiet? Had everybody been staring or was it just his imagination?

“’am not,” he muttered in a weak voice.

_Scared? Who was scared?_

His heart was beating like crazy. It deafened him from the inside like a drum. Jesus, these few words were nothing to be frightened of, he knew that, but staring at Thomas’ sincere face while it echoed inside of him proved almost stressful.

Then Thomas’ expression changed like he realized something and the touch on Newt’s hands disappeared, immediately putting a weird barrier between them.

“Sorry,” the brunet mumbled, looking away. “I know you don’t fancy mushiness.”

“Um.”

“I’ll see you after school?”

_Wait, what’s going on?_

“Sure,” he forced out and before he could even form a proper thought on that matter and voice it out, Thomas was already leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> Welp.


	20. An Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, feels like there is a lot to learn about him,” Thomas nodded in agreement. He envied Minho’s insight at times, but when it wasn’t too dramatic, he actually enjoyed uncovering Newt’s little quirks and habits by himself.  
> “Honestly?” Minho crossed his arms behind his head. “I think he’s really, really simple, deep down. He just likes to pose tougher than he actually is, prolly because he was such a pretty kiddo at elementary.”  
> “What does it have to do with anything?”

“What’s up with the face?”

Thomas tilted his head to the side, but didn’t answer. Did he overstep his boundaries? Hell, it was probably too much at once, wasn’t it? Acting so territorial before and then pulling the L word on Newt like it was some kind of soap opera, and people in the cafeteria could burst into a song any moment (they just stared and maybe that was also a reason why Newt reacted like he did, right? So damn public and all).

Jesus, Newt’s expression though… he looked so damn shocked over it. Thomas messed up - he had to mess up or Newt wouldn‘t look like that, or he would say something (probably sarcastic, which would feel much, much better than the blank stare he gave him).

Shit, they weren’t officially together even for a week yet, it had been like… three days. Jesus Christ, three fucking days and he was pushing him into love confessions? What the hell was wrong with him? Of course Newt would react negatively (well, it wasn’t negative per se, it was… nothing. Basically) when Thomas spilled something this stupid and mushy on him in the middle of a crowd, even though he was aware Newt wasn’t really a fan of it.

“Earth to Thomas?” Minho nudged his shoulder and it finally broke the train process he had, successfully focusing at his friend’s worried expression. “You okay, dude?”

“Uh,” he tried. “I dunno.”

“Don’t tell me you fought again with him?” Minho raised an eyebrow. They didn’t have the same class with Newt for two more lessons and Thomas had to admit he probably looked more bummed out than he wanted to let on.

“No, I don’t think we did,” he offered hesitantly. “But…”

“You two are worse than a drama show,” Minho sighed and plopped right next to him on a chair. “So? Tell everything to uncle Minho.”

Thomas stared dubiously at him for a moment, but when Minho just smirked and motioned for him to spill the beans, he rubbed his eyes and gave up. It wasn’t like Minho didn’t know what was going on (especially when he was giving Brenda the bet money and whined about it), so there was no point hiding it.

“Told him I love him,” Thomas confessed tiredly.

“What a sin,” Minho commented dryly.

“He didn’t look thrilled by it,” Thomas ignored the jab, Newt’s expression pretty alive still in his mind. “More like… uh.”

“Uh?”

“Like _nothing_ ,” he made a vague gesture by his hand. “Like he didn’t know how to react.”

“Wait, and that surprises you?” Minho snorted like it really amused him and Thomas wanted to hit him over his head. _Of course_ it surprised him! At that point. Now… it probably made sense, kind of. “Dude, Newt is probably as emotional as a stump left alone in the forest. You can’t expect him to fall around your neck and quote Romeo and Juliette.”

“I didn’t expect him to do any of that,” Thomas frowned at Minho’s smug expression. “But…”

“Eh, just give him time,” Minho patted his shoulder. “I can assure you he’s thinking about it right now. Then he will realize he didn’t give you an answer, which would lead to him feeling guilty about it – if you two are on speaking terms, that is – and then he will get back to you with it. Can’t guarantee anything overly nice, but he won’t leave you hanging, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

Well, it probably sounded a bit too hopeful, so Thomas wasn’t surprised when Minho laughed first, but at least he got a nod to confirm it.

“You’re forgetting I know him since elementary school,” Minho added and yeah, Thomas really kept on forgetting that piece of information. Several people from the group were basically childhood friends and it was pretty much awesome. Thomas was grateful they made him feel to be part of it (at least most of them, Newt did a lot against it before) when he started attending this school.

“Yeah, feels like there is a lot to learn about him,” Thomas nodded in agreement. He envied Minho’s insight at times, but when it wasn’t too dramatic, he actually enjoyed uncovering Newt’s little quirks and habits by himself.

“Honestly?” Minho crossed his arms behind his head. “I think he’s really, really simple, deep down. He just likes to pose tougher than he actually is, prolly because he was such a pretty kiddo at elementary.”

“What does it have to do with anything?” Thomas blinked in confusion while making a mental note to ask Minho to bring some childhood photos at some point. Man, what kind of little blond angel Newt had to be? He was pretty sure if he asked the participant himself, he would get turned down.

“Well. A lot,” Minho grinned. “They kept on saying how cute he is, so they all thought he was a weakling and I dunno. Like a lil girl, you know? He hated it. Like, you call him cute and he just explodes, it’s like a switch.”

He hated to be called cute? Thomas felt the blood draining from his face – for fuck’s sake, how many times he told him that exact phrase? Cute, adorable, it was like… _all the fucking time_.

_Shit._

“So he started to act tougher – like, defensive and sarcastic. Guess it kind of worked?” Minho continued, thankfully not noticing Thomas’ inner terror. He hoped it would stay that way. “People don’t look down on him anymore, he got stronger. Not complicated tho, just… guarded? I suppose.”

“I see,” he let out weakly and wondered if falling into a coma would help him somehow.

 

***

Thomas wasn’t a person who overly worried about things – he always thought it would end up somehow, and then he would have to accept it anyway. Sure, he had moments where he decided to push so the result would play in his favour, but when the circumstances didn’t work out, he knew when to stop.

Right now the situation terrified him though. He didn’t have a feeling he did something wrong with the confession itself – nor there hung an imminent danger from Newt’s side like it used to be before. They didn’t fight, they didn’t quarrel, they didn’t even have a fall out. But what Minho said scared him – why Newt never mentioned anything? That he didn’t like being called cute or _kitten_  - which could have been even worse, now when Thomas thought about it. True, he said something against it _once_ , but like… half-heartedly and never mentioned it again.

Thomas almost dreaded the end of the second lesson, because he had no idea what to expect or how to act. What if Newt was going to pretend nothing happened? Because Thomas wanted to tell him the L word for some time already, he wanted him to know, and he wouldn’t take it back even when the timing kind of sucked (he was, after all, in love for some time already. It almost felt like they were dating for _months_ already, maybe his brain simply took it as a fact?). He didn’t stubbornly expect an answer either, but…

**Newt – 16:11 – Let’s go to my place after school?**

Thomas blinked at the text and his heart started beating like a drum. To his place. Was it… bad? It meant business, right? Maybe a talk that needed to be private?

**Thomas – 16:12 – Okay. Wait for me at the lockers.**

He wanted to put smiley there, but couldn’t bring himself to. He had been nervous before, but with the text it skyrocketed into space and beyond, leaving him in a messy state. But… if Newt wanted to broke up with him, he wouldn’t lead him to his house, right? Wait, was there a reason to break up? Because Thomas told him he was in love? Or because of the pet names?

Maybe it was too needy for Newt’s taste. Or too soon (yes, it was too soon, fine, but not a crime, right?) and he didn’t want to think about putting a label on his feelings. Because there had to be some, yeah? He at least had to find Thomas appealing. Likable? Somehow.

“Good luck, man,” Minho piped next to him, apparently reading the text, and Thomas decided he was going to need it.

***

He wasn’t sure how exactly they got to Newt’s house, he felt like in a trance – a missile that had an inner GPS build inside of it, led to the target. He was sure he communicated with Newt during the ride by bus and the short walk from the station, but he couldn’t vouch for credibility or exact words he uttered. Newt didn’t look angry though – not from the first look when they reunited at the lockers, not during the travel and not when he was unlocking the house. His shoulders were relaxed, tone friendly, eyes focused.

Maybe that was what made Thomas so nervous about it. The lack of _something._ He wanted to ask if he messed up or if Newt lost interest because of it, or if he could remedy that somehow, but his tongue ended up tied like under a spell every time he tried it, so he kept quiet.

When they were going up the stairs, he mauled over it in search for the least painful approach, but once they reached the room and he opened his mouth, the words were snatched away by a hungry kiss. His back hit the door and closed it shut by the impact while Newt pressed him into them without a single word of explanation or a warning, and _who cared why he did it, they were kissing_.

There was something urgent in Newt’s kisses though, and his touches that kept on traveling all around Thomas’ torso and back and hips as if he was searching for something, and yeah, it was really difficult to think when Newt was speaking French to him like that, but Thomas couldn’t help but wonder why the blond was suddenly so wanton. Thomas refused to ruin it with questions, so when Newt nibbled his lower lip and then changed the location to Thomas’ neck like he wanted to mark him somehow, he didn’t take the opportunity to ask and let Newt do what he wanted to while his own hands ran over Newt’s slender hips and then slightly under the upper layers of clothing.

Then it hit him.

Minho said Newt was not going to leave him hanging, right? That he probably felt guilty about not answering. Was this his reply? Or an apology? Because they never went straight to making out before, and as much as Thomas wasn’t complaining, it was rather sudden.

“Newt,” he let out quietly, hearing a hum from the blond showing him he was listening. His lips were covering his neck with small kisses and licks and at some point he even felt the marking process and it was making him hot like a furnace. “How difficult is it for you to admit you like me back?”

“I’m _showing you_ ,” Newt bit his skin as if in reprimand and Thomas yelped. “The best way I can.”

“Not complaining,” Thomas assured him and squeezed Newt’s butt just because he could. Seriously, how cute was this guy? No matter how hated to be told, it was simply adorable. Showing him the best he could, was he too embarrassed to say it in words?

“You just complained,” Newt opposed and his nimble fingers started working on Thomas’ jacket, unzipping it and pulling it off his shoulders.

”Was only a genuine question,” Thomas opposed with a chuckle and helped Newt to get rid of his hoodie too. “I thought you were angry or something, this is a relief.”

“Angry?” this time Newt stopped and looked at Thomas in confusion. “Why would I be angry? You did something?”

“Told you I love you?” Thomas shrugged and it felt nice to repeat that so nonchalantly. It made him feel rather warm inside. And, well, Newt probably warm outside, since his face immediately reddened and even though he tried to hide it by burying his face into Thomas’ chest, it was too late. “Aw, man.”

“Don’t say anything,” Newt muttered, his hands gripping Thomas’ sides. “Bloody hell.”

“I’ve never seen you turn so red before,” Thomas didn’t listen and the grip tightened. “So cool.“ Almost painful now. He was probably going to kill him soon for it, but Thomas thought it would be a nice way to go.

“I don’t want you to think I ignored it,” the blond sighed against Thomas’ shirt and eased off the hold a little. “You caught me off guard.”

“I know,” Thomas circled his arms around Newt’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “I’d say sorry, but I don’t really feel like regretting it. So… sorry for not being sorry?”

“Why am I dating you again?”

“Cuz I love you~.”

He heard Newt growl a little, like a cat that was all ruffled, and then a string of words rushed out of the blond’s mouth so fast Thomas didn’t catch a single word.

“What?”

Another growl, then Newt took a step back and took off his parka while looking shockingly embarrassed.

“I said _I love you too_ ,” he forced out and tossed the parka next to him on the floor. “And _I hate these kinds of things_.”

Thomas’ rational part of mind turned itself off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> In his mind Thomas opened a bottle of champagne in celebration.


	21. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want to hurt you, you know,” the brunet opposed in a serious tone and stiffened when Newt brushed their lips together. He didn’t seem in pain anymore, or at least not as bad as he used to be, and the smirk he had on his face wasn’t good for Thomas’ mental health.   
> “You clearly never had sex before.”  
> “I clearly had,” Thomas uttered dryly, but Newt kept on smirking. “Just…”  
> “Mhm.”

„You’d tell me if I do or say something you don’t like, right?“

“I don’t like you talking about it right now!” Newt barked at him viciously. “Jesus, Thomas, _move_.”

“You said it hurts,” Thomas responded stubbornly. He held himself back by the power of his sheer will, his hips almost bucking forward by itself into the welcoming heat, but the evident discomfort Newt bore in his features made him stop. He was trying to be patient, he really, really was, but Newt was so goddamn erotic and Thomas had a weak will.

“Of course it hurts!” Newt hissed, but he seemed more relaxed than few minutes ago and that gave Thomas a little hope. He was clutching Thomas’ arm in almost a painful grip and his breathing was elevated, but it was still so damn _overwhelming._ Thomas’ whole body was shaking along with Newt’s, and he could feel the adrenaline rising in him the longer he stared at the beautiful lithe body under him, joined together, panting and flushed.

“Then I won’t move,” Thomas mumbled and Newt let out a low whine. “Until you’re ready.”

“Bloody hell, mate,” Newt groaned at him and pulled himself up by reaching for Thomas’ shoulders, using it as a leverage. It made Thomas moan before he could stop it and Newt barked out a small laugh. “You’re too careful.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, you know,” the brunet opposed in a serious tone and stiffened when Newt brushed their lips together. He didn’t seem in pain anymore, or at least not as bad as he used to be, and the smirk he had on his face wasn’t good for Thomas’ mental health.

“You clearly never had sex before.”

“I clearly had,” Thomas uttered dryly, but Newt kept on smirking. “Just…”

“Mhm.”

“You seem better now,” he pointed out, especially when Newt’s hips rolled down slightly, making him spill another moan. It was so hot and almost too much and he really couldn’t hold back much longer at this rate. He was buried inside of his lover so deep he actually surprised himself for not coming already.

“I just needed to get used to it,” Newt whispered to his ear. “C’mon, Casanova. _Move_.”

Thomas really needed talk to Newt about breaking his mind later on, preferably _after_ he was done with him in the bed, but right now he only wanted to regain sanity. Not that Newt helped - he actually made it worse with the broken moans and muttered encouragements that always made Thomas’ hips to stutter before falling back into a steady rhythm.

The decision to actually have sex wasn’t exactly set in words when Thomas thought back about it. It sort of happened, because that was the power of love confessions, apparently, and when they reached the bed while still kissing, it suddenly became an option and Thomas simply didn’t want to halt it anymore (screw the actual dating count, they had weird kind of foreplay for more than half a year already!). So when Newt encouraged him to try it out, because they were in love and kind of horny and still too young to complain about stamina or consequences, Thomas didn’t need to be told twice (hell, almost not even once, he pounced him even before Newt finished the line).

“Ayy, look at that treasure trail,” Newt suddenly announced with a small laugh that turned into a moan almost immediately, “Brenda wasn’t l-lying.”

“That’s what you remember?” Thomas eyed him with a sigh and bended over, bringing them chest to chest. Newt whined a little, his body squirming, and then locked his legs around Thomas’ hips to push him closer and hold on spot.

“I remember everything,” he said breathlessly, and really, how could he be so damn coherent while doing the horizontal tango? Thomas could barely hold a thought for how good he felt, the pleasure travelled through his whole body. “But I just f-felt like I need to point it out, since I can s-see it pretty clearly now.”

“Do you have some kind of a back-up brain on you?” Thomas stared at him intensely and his hips slowed down almost to a halt, which Newt seemingly didn’t like, judging from the nudge he got from his legs still locked behind his back.

“Don’t stop, you huge tease,” the blond urged him. “And why should I?”

“You’re suspiciously talkative,” Thomas commented, which made Newt snort, and then nudge him again, which resulted in another moan when Thomas adjusted slightly. It was such a relief Newt didn’t look in pain anymore.

“You want me to talk dirty to you instead?” the blond offered and Thomas huffed and leaned back again, just to grab the blond by his thighs to push him even closer. It immediately made Newt yelp, but then his back arched and he definitely liked the new angle, that for sure.

“You’re seriously testing me,” Thomas mumbled more to himself than to the devil under him, but Newt grinned at him anyway and met one of his thrusts cheekily.

“Good news then,” he told him in a low, almost sultry voice. “So far you’re passing pretty well.”

Thomas realized that if he wanted to stay sane, kissing would be probably the best way how to stop Newt from scrambling his brain like eggs on the pan, so he promptly sealed his mouth shut with his own.

Newt didn’t complain.

***

It was a wonder, kind of, but when Newt woke up, there was only soft breathing next to his ear, in the room otherwise engulfed in silence. Warmth that wasn’t heavy, or stuffy, and a calming presence slowly flooding his consciousness lying next to him. There was no disturbance whatsoever – no flailing limbs, no annoying noises, just this.

 _This_ as in Thomas holding him from behind, nuzzling the back of his neck and making Newt realize they just sealed a weird pact with their bodies – and minds – all in one day.

 _Love._ What a peculiar word.

Newt was never big on pompous gestures, love confessions, pet names or the lovey-dovey situations that could have occurred in the relationship. It felt forced, probably, like acting as somebody else, so he never succumbed to it.

Until Thomas, that is. Suddenly everything made more sense to him, he alone had the need to touch, or say something shockingly cheesy (which still was a fight for him though, he mostly didn’t let it out anyway), and he didn’t regret it afterwards either. The more time he spent with Thomas, the less agitated he became about all the possible insecurities that came along with it, the bad memories and possible arguments starters, like Thomas could put his mind at ease when he let him.

And that was it, wasn’t it? That was what meant to love somebody, to enjoy every second, and maybe worry as well, but as long as they would talk to each other instead of shutting themselves out, it should work. And Newt wanted it to work, because he never felt like he did with Thomas – and it kind of worked for the whole time they knew each other. From rising annoyance and dislike he worked it out towards the fact the entirety of the problem didn’t really lie in Thomas, but in him. And when he solved that, it felt sort of liberating.

And, to be honest, pretty nice too.

He took a deep breath, noticing how Thomas’ hold on his waist tightened minutely and then relaxed again, and glanced at the clock. The sky outside was dark already and the lamps were the only light that illuminated his room, and it was really something nobody banged on his door so far, since it was already past nine. He didn’t feel like getting up and telling them though, so he turned around instead to face his sleeping boyfriend and buried his face in his chest for another set of cuddles.

Who cared it was mushy. They were so bloody compatible he felt ashamed for not noticing it sooner and giving them both a hard time to begin with. He could have only hoped Thomas would be kind enough to forgive him for it at some point.

***

“There is something… different about blondie.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas raised his head from writing and focused at Brenda. She had a weird expression on her face and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what she was about to say. It was almost end of the class and he had to admit the tiredness from the whole week being full of tests started dragging him down.

“Like… an aura, I guess,” she said thoughtfully. “I mean, he has always been kind of a pretty boy, really, but now it’s like he’s… prettier?”

“Prettier?” Thomas snorted at the phrase and glanced towards Newt who was still talking with the teacher. From his point of view Newt had been and always will be the prettiest person ever, but Brenda didn’t need to know those things. “Don’t say it in front of him.”

“Don’t worry, I will not,” she assured him with a hum. “Ah, maybe it’s like… something erotic?”

“What?” he froze, staring back at her with wide eyes. _Erotic?_ Was it another set of her wannabe Twilight series writing?

“Like the pheromones thing,” she elaborated with a shrug. “I mean, they say when a girl is happy in a relationship, she becomes irresistible.”

“Newt’s not a girl,” he uttered. He didn’t even act like one, geez.

“Yeah, he’s not a girl, but he sort of is,” she had the nerve to send him a knowing smirk. “So I guess he’s happy now, yeah?”

Was Newt happy? Thomas sincerely hoped in the positive answer, and quite frankly didn’t feel like he needed to worry about anything that would threaten it. They didn’t argue for some time already, there hadn’t be any sort of misunderstanding, they talked everything out before it reached a boiling point.

Yeah, sure, they still bickered about small things, but it was more out of habit and sport than because they had the need to prove the other wrong. Minho still rolled his eyes when listening to them, but he didn’t look worried anymore, so that also meant something. Maybe they sort of toned it down? Unconsciously buried the hatchet?

“I know I am,” he responded a little vaguely. “Is a punchline coming?”

“Nah,” Brenda focused back at Newt with a small smile. “I just wanted you to know. Thought you’d like it.”

Well, if Newt was giving the _happy vibe_ , then yes, Thomas definitely liked it. Even more so if it was because of him.

“Oi, what’s the staring contest for?” Newt’s voice reached his ears just few seconds later and he heard Brenda laugh. “Thought I’d have a hole in my head from you two.”

“We were just appreciating your beauty,” Brenda responded first before Thomas could even open his mouth. “That seemingly multiplied since you started sleeping with Thomas.”

“Brenda!” Thomas groaned, horrified.

“Well, you know what they say about happy girls,” Newt surprisingly didn’t say anything against it and Brenda made a victorious _ha!_ noise towards Thomas. “But thanks. At least you didn’t say I _look dumb when I smile to myself like a creep_.”

“Sonya?” Thomas guessed and Newt shrugged like he didn’t really care about it. “Must be still the glitter-revenge.”

“I already got her a new can, she’s like a child,” Newt shook his head and finally sat back on his spot, right next to Thomas. It was almost like a sign Thomas could resume the touching period and was glad Newt didn’t do anything against him plastering all over the his back.

“Nothing against what Teresa says when Thomas isn’t home,” Brenda giggled and when Thomas gave her a glare, she just sent him a flying kiss and disappeared out of the classroom.

“What does she say?” Newt glanced at him curiously and Thomas buried his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck.

“Nothing. She’s embarrassing,” he mumbled and Newt let out a small laugh. “Never ever listen to her, okay?”

“Mkay,” the blond patted his head gently. “But it’s gonna cost you.”

“Ohoho.”

“And I’m not cheap,” he added.

“I would never even think you are,” Thomas smirked and pulled him into a backwards hug. Since everybody refrained commenting anything they had seen them doing in the classroom since the day one, Thomas didn’t even bother taking them into account, and Newt seemed to do the same. “I just hope you’re a liberal person who is not only after money.”

“You mean you want to pay me in goods?” Newt glanced at him with badly hidden smirk and Thomas seriously hoped that nothing would stand in his way to keep this guy anymore. Giving him up after all they had been through would probably sent him to the madhouse.

“Deeds, more likely,” he answered innocently and Newt hummed in appreciation.

“I suppose I can be persuaded,” he admitted. “Coming to my place today?”

“If you want me to,” Thomas relaxed back into the hold. “I’m all for it.”

Maybe, once they finished college, _maybe_ they could actually find a place just two of them, Thomas thought boldly.

Wouldn’t that be something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> At least one "sex" scene thrown in your face before ending this, lololol. So sorry :D  
> Aaaaaaaand I'm free! The end ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetad!
> 
> And here we go :D I hope this one won't disappoint! <3  
> Happy for feedbacks as always, or your opinions or anything ^.^ if you have any idea you'd like to see there, feel free to prompt it to me :)  
> Thank you for reading! <3


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